'UPS  AND  DOWNS: 


BY 


EDWARD   E.   HALE, 

AUTHOR  OF  "THE  MAN  WITHOUT  A  COUNTRY,"  "TEN  TIMES  ONE  is  THN, 

"  HOW   TO   DO  IT,"    ETC. 


BOSTON: 
ROBERTS      BROTHERS. 

F873- 


u 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1873,  by 

EDWARD  E.  HALE, 
In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


STEREOTYPED   R"    IOIIN   C.    KI.CAN, 

1(.)  SIMIINC  I.AM:.  ISOSTON. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER.  PAGE. 

I.  THE  LAST  DAY       .        .        .                        .  1 

II.  Puss —  AND  BERTHA       .....  8 

III.  COMMENCEMENT  DAY     .        .        .        .        .  14 

IV.  HOT  AND  TIRED 24 

V.  AUNT  MARY    .......  31 

VI.  JASPER  RISING  TO  ASAPH  FERGUSON    .        .38 

'»  >  A   • 

VII.  BEGIN  AGAIN  .        .        .        .'       .        .        .  43 

VIII.  OSCAR      .        .        .        .        .        .        .        .  58 

IX.  How  BERTHA  BEGAN 7G 

X.  HONEST  WORK        .       .        .       ...  89 

XI.  THE  GOVERNESS      .        .        .        .        .        .  102 

XII.  TALK  AT  A  PARTY 118 

XIII.  FAINT,  YET  PURSUING    .        .        .   '    .  125 

XIV.  HE  AND  SHE  .        .        ...        .        .  136 

XV.  BERTHA  STAID        ...        .        .        .        .  149 

XVI.  NUMBER  47 154 

XVII.  A  FRESH  WATER  VOYAGE     .        .        .        .  1G2 

XVIII.  THE  HEAVEN  ON  THE  EARTH        .        .  179 

XIX.  A  CARD  CASTLK      .        .        .      '.        .  191 


iv  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER.  PAGE. 

XX.  PROVING  IDENTITY       .        .        .        .        ,  194 

XXI.  THE  Two  MANITOS      .        .    *    .        .        .  210 

XXII.  HARD  WOOD  LUMBER          .        .  '      .        .  227 

XXIII.  SHALL  WE  GO  ON? 230 

XXIV.  HOME  AGAIN 244 

XXV.  TEN  DAYS  LATER      '  .        .        .'                .  261 

XXVI.  THE  HEROINES  OF  SCOTLAND       ...  276 

XXVII.  YOU   ARE  TRYING  TO   SPARE  ME    .           .           .  292 

XXVIII.  THE  LAST  SUMMER      .        ,        .        .        .  296 

XXIX.  MRS.  MERRIAM'S 305 

CONCLUSION  .  314 


U1TIVEESITY 


UPS    AND    DOWNS. 


CHAPTER    I. 

THE   LAST   DAY.* 

TT  was  the  day  before  Commencement  at  Camoridge ; 
-*-  and  they  sat  together  in  Massachusetts  Twenty- 
seven,  the  pleasantest  room  in  the  oldest  building  then 
inhabited  by  students  in  Harvard  College. 

It  was  the  pleasantest  room  then.  I  think  it  prob 
ably  is  now.  It  overlooks  both  the  "  yard,"  that  is  the 
College  yard,  and  the  "  Common,"  that  is  the  Common 
of  the  town.  Jasper  had  lived  in  Massachusetts 
Twenty-seven  for  two  j*ears.  In  summer  he  had  a  spy 
glass  hanging  by  a  cord  from  the  open  window,  ready 
to  be  trained  on  any  passer,  near  or  distant.  He  said, 
that,  though  a  wayfarer  were  passing  a  quarter-mile 
away,  a  shrill  shriek  for  an  instant  would  make  him  turn 
an  unsuspicious  look  direct ty  to  the  spy-glass.  Kay  ! 
It  would  make  her  turn,  if  the  object  of  the  reconnois- 
sance  were  a  she. 

Here  they  sat  in  Massachusetts  Twent}-seven.  The 
work,  and  even  the  pla}~,  of  the  four  college  }~ears  were 
over,  —  the  J^xt  day  was  to  graduate  them,  to  give 
them  their  grade  in  life  ;  and  the  next  day  they  were  to 
be  men,  to  instruct  and  astonish  a  waiting  world. 

Preparatory  to  which  they  were  sitting,  most  of  them 
on  the  two  hinder  legs  of  their  chairs,  some  of  them 
smoking,  and  all  of  them  occasionally  sipping,  —  not 
(1) 


2  UPti  AND  DOWNS. 

juleps,  not  cocktails,  not  smashes  of  any  form,  but 
iced  lemonade.  Such  was  the  daily  entertainment  in 
Massachusetts  Twenty-seven.  Jasper  was  the  great 
unrequited  discoverer  of  the  scientific  fact,  that,  if  the 
ice-man  come  late,  you  can  keep  ice  for  six  hours  in  the 
pail  in  the  wash-stand.  For  these  six  hours  the  hos 
pitable  entertainment  above  described  endured  for  all 
comers,  —  generally  indeed  protracted  till  the  six 
o'clock  bell  for  evening  pikers,  which  were  then  one 
of  the  institutions  of  the  University. 

—  "The  best  education  our  country  can  afford!" 
said  Horace,  laughing. 

"  Top-notch  and  nothing  less  !  " 

"And,  at  the  end  of  four  years,  we  are  here  smok 
ing  and  laughing,  with  no  more  idea  what  we  will  do 
with  the  best  education  our  country  can  afford,  than  we 
had  the  day  we  first  saw  each  other,  in  our  freshman 
round  jackets  and  swallow-tails." 

"  St.  Leger,  what  have  you  done  with  that  olive-green 
'  frock  ?  " 

"  Don't  laugh  at  the  olive-green !  I  will  wear  it  on 
the  stage  to-morrow  if  }'ou  make  fun  of  it.  How  queer 
it  was  that  clay !  Those  two  examination  days  were  the 
hardest  da}'S  I  have  ever  spent  here  !  " 

"  Of  course  they  were.  Is  that  perhaps  one  of  the 
dodges  of  what  they  call  Life,  —  that  the  gates  are 
made  narrow  so  that  one  shall  be  more  at  ease  when  he 
gets  iii?  " 

"  I  believe  I  knew  the  multiplication  table  better  then 
than  I  do  now.  Jasper,  what  is  nine  times  eight?  " 

"Dear  old  Watrous!"  said  Jasper,  to  whom  the 
question  recalled  some  sophomore  story,  "  he  is  prob 
ably  no\v  on  (he  topmast  of  his  beloved  l  Marie  Antoin 
ette,'  and  she  is  tossed  on  the  to])  wave  of  the  highest 
curved  meridian  of  the  Pacific  Ocean  j^and  Watrous, 
with  his  weak  C}TCS,  is  looking  for  ii.-h,*^fc  cursed  by 
an  exuberant,  captain  below,  because  he  ctaes  not  cry 
'  There  she  I  .lows!'" 

"  Stutl'!  "  said  St.  Lei^er,  between  the  curls  of  his 
cigar.  "Watrous  is  lying  on  the  turf  in  the  Friendly 


THE  LAST  DAY.  3 

Islands,  and  two  lovely  Tahitian  girls  are  fanning  him 
with  palm-leaves." 

"  I  hope  so,"  said  Horace ;  "  but,  in  the  Friendly 
Islands,  they  eat  white  people  alive,  and  there  are  no 
Tahitian  girls  within  two  thousand  miles." 

"  How  can  you  be  so  statistical?  Do  you  remember 
how  we  all  deaded  when  George  Simmons  asked  us 
whether  London  or  Amsterdam  were  the  more  north 
erly?" 

"I  remember  we  deaded.  I  forget  what  he  asked 
us.  That  is  the  curse  of  such  questions.  For,  if  he 
asked  me  to-day,  I  should  not  know  any  better  than  I 
knew  then.  Yet  that  afternoon  I  must  have  known, 
after  he  told  me." 

"  And  you  are  the  man  who  has  the  best  education 
his  country  can  afford  !  " 

"  Yes :  you  see  unfortunately  my  country  could  not 
afford  a  Maltc-Brun  professor  of  Geograph}T.  I  know 
as  much  of  Amsterdam  —  and  as  little  —  as  I  did  the 
d&y  I  came  here  !  " 

"  I  mean  to  go  to  Amsterdam,"  said  Jasper.  "  Dr. 
Palfrey  told  me  he  spent  a  day  there.  Then  I  shall 
know  where  it  is.  That  is  the  only  way.  I  don't  won 
der  so  man}'  fellows  go  to  Europe." 

"  No,  nor  I,  when  they  have  a  maternal  relative  to 
pay  the  bills,  as  you  have.  When  shall  I  make  you  un 
derstand,  Jasper,  that  that  carnal  advantage  which  3*011 
enjo}*,  unimportant,  indeed,  to  the  philosopher,  materi 
ally  changes  the  character  of  some  people's  aspirations 
and  projects,  Here  am  I,  wondering  how  I  am  to  pay 
Madam  Hyde  for  the  patches  on  the  trousers  I  wear,  the 
strap^buttons  on  those  I  don't  wear,  and  the  silk  gown  I 
am  to  wear  to-morrow,  —  and  I  am  invited  to  go  to  Hol 
land  with  a  gentleman  whose  friends  fear  to  trust  him 
on  the  othej^ide  of  the  ocean  alone,*  who  has  a  wild 
desire  to  aajPtain  the  position  of  Amsterdam.  Yet  no 
man  explains  to  me  first  how  Mrs.  Hyde  is  to  be  paid, 
—  second,  how  my  state-room  is  to  be  provided." 

"  Ma'am  ILyde  is  not  married  :  she  is  an  ancient  vir 
gin,  vulgarly  called  an  old  maid." 


4  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

"  She  is  a  nice  old  soul  an}Twa3T,  and  has  been  very 
kind  to  me.  But  I  wish  you  would  not  turn  the  conver 
sation  from  this  subject  of  finance.  I  do  not  suppose 
we  all  mean  to  go  through  the  world  the  beggars,  or 
putative  beggars,  that  we  are." 

"  What  does  putative  mean?  " 

u  What  does  beggar  mean?  I  have  begged  for  noth 
ing.  I  have  only  said  that  I  have  the  best  education 
nry  country  can  afford,  and  I  have  meekly  inquired 
what  I  am  to  do  with  it.  Can  any  man  inform  me? 
Where  is  a  market  for  abscissas  and  ordinates  ?  Who 
will  give  me  my  living  in  return  for  an  adequate  expla 
nation  of  the  meaning  of  the  word  as3*mptote  ?  " 

"  I  would  have  given  five  dollars  to  anybody  who 
would  have  provided  me  with  it  one  day  when  I  had  the 
blackboard  before  me  and  Pierce  behind  me." 

"  Had  you  only  had  the  five  dollars  to  give  !  I  find 
those  most  willing  to  recompense  me  for  my  wares  who 
have  nothing  but  good  wishes  to  give.  " 

"  We  are  in  the  prime  of  life  now ;  we  may  forget 
about  these  asymptotes  and  paroxytons.  I  am  shaky 
myself;  and  what  can  I  hope  for  from  the  rest  of  you? 
Is  there,  then,  no  method  by  which  we  can  store  away 
what  we  now  have  and  enjoy,  for  the  blessing  of  after 
days?" 

u  When  we  are  on  the  shady  side  of  thirty,  like  that 
fellow  with  the  inanilla-stick  that  carne  into  Commons 
day." 

u  Yes,  think  of  it ;  the  days  will  come  when  we  are 

no  longer  in  the  «T:idii:iting  class  ;  when  ten  graduating 

re  behind  us;   when   ea<j;er  si  at  esinen,  looking 

lor  young  life  to  recruit  the  treasury  benches  in  Con- 

.  will  no  longer  send  us  private  despatches,  such 

as  .hisper  expects  to  receive  to-morrow;   when  careful 

.,  desirous  to  liii'l   sale  tutors  who  ^wU  escort  two 

,.1    one   l.>vely  blonde,  —  oh.  so  lovi  ly  !  — 

through   Kurope,  will   no  longer  address   themselves  to 

Horace,  a    he  expects  to  be  :nMrcs.-.cd  to-morrow  ;  when 

a  new-founded   univeivity   at- the   West,  represented   at 

our    annual    games    by    a    committee    of    ten    trustees 


THE  LAST  DAY.  5 

seeking  a  president,  will  no  longer  wait  upon  me 
impressively,  as  I  expect  them  to  do  to-morrow.  More 
briefly  spoken,  the  days  will  come  when  we  are  aged 
men,  when  we  are  past  thirt}*.  What  shall  we  have 
laid  up  in  provision  for  those  years  ?  " 

"  What  indeed,  seeing  we  have  nothing  to  la}'?  " 

"  There  must  be  something  that  improves  by  age,  which, 
perhaps,  by  borrowing  from  Jasper  a  little  capital,  we 
could  store  up  now,  which  at  thirty  will  be  so  valuable 
that  we  shall  in  that  dotage  be  able  to  sell  it  for  enough 
to  pay  him,  and  to  provide  for  the  decline  of  life.  What 
is  there  which  grows  more  valuable  as  it  grows  older?" 

"  Is  that  a  conundrum? " 

"Conundrum?  no!  It  is  a  most  serious  question, 
bearing  on  the  whole  future  of  life." 

"What  grows  better  as  it  grows  older?  I  though 
ever}Tbody  knew.  Wine  does." 

"  Yes,"  said  Horace,  pensively  ;  "but  it  is  very  har< 
to  keep  it.  Is  there  nothing  but  wine  ?  " 

"  Trees,"  said  Jasper.  "  Soap,"  said  Oilman 
"Paper,"  said  Ferguson.  "There  is  a  note  my  fathe- 
sent  me  yesterda}7,  on  paper  ten  years  old :  see  hov 
hard  and  firm  that  is  !  " 

"Wine,  soap,  paper,  trees.  Can  that  be  all?  And 
none  of  us  have  any  wine  or  trees  or  paper ;  and  w<  • 
have  only  five  half-cakes  of  soap  between  us.  Jaspe; 
will  have  to  lend  us  a  good  deal." 

"  Perhaps  Jasper  will  save  us  the  other  half  of  tin 
trouble  by  bu}ing  the  wine,  the  soap,  the  paper,  and  tin- 
trees,  and  keeping  them  for  us.  Is  not  there  at  tli< 
Grange  some  cluster  of  tight  old  barns,  which  could  b( 
locked  up,  and  marked  St.  Leger,  or  Ferguson,  Oilman 
and  Haliburton,  in  which  from  time  to  time,  as  good 
wine,  soap,  paper,  and  trees  turned  up,  you  could  store 
them  away  for  us?  Or  the  trees  might  stay  out  doors." 

"  Plenty  of  them,"  said  Jasper,  laughing,  "  without 
buying.  Come  and  see  the  Grange,  and  3*011  shall  all 
make  3Tour  own  arrangements.  I  have  told  them,  Hor 
ace,  that  you  will  arrive  with  me  ;  and,  if  the  rest  of  you 
fellows  would  come  before  August,  jjt  would  be  jolly." 


6  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

Jasper  Rising,  the  host  in  this  interview,  and  the  cen 
tre  indeed  of  the  circle  wherever  they  were,  had  fairly 
oarned  the  thorough  love  and  thorough  respect  with 
which  the  others  regarded  him,  in  the  well-worked  and 
well-crowded  and  well-amused  college-life  which  was 
ended  on  this  day.  He  had  been  sent  to  college  by  the 
relative  of  whom  the  bo}Ts  had  spoken  as  his  "maternal 
uncle,"  one  of  Nature's  noblemen,  who,  having  early 
struck  off  westward,  self-reliant  and  enduring,  had, 
before  twenty  years,  established  on  Lake  Michigan  an 
immense  lumber  business,  receiving  timber  from  every 
•stream  in  a  principality,  cutting  it  in  his  own  mills, 
and  delivering  it  where  most  needed  in  the  then  new 
region  of  the  north-west.  All  this  work  left  him  none 
the  less  the  chance  and  the  time  to  do  what  was  a  thou 
sand  times  better, —  to  buildup  "the  Grange,"  which 
was  the  most  comfortable  and  home-like  of  homes. 
Since  Jasper  was  a  child,  he  had  lived  here  with  his 
widowed  mother  so  long  as  she  lived,  who  was  not  the 
sister  of  John  Hughitt,  but  a  cousin  of  some  distant 
remove.  But  he  was  fond  of  her,  and  she  of  him ; 
and  when  his  wife  fell  ill,  and  dragged  along  a  wretched 
career  of  invalidism,  Mrs.  Rising,  who  went  there  first 
as  a  guest,  and  the1*  staid  because  she  could  not  be 
spared,  became  graduall}*  installed  as  the  domestic 
head  of  the  immense  establishment.  Jasper  alwa^ys 
en  lied  John  Ilugliitt  "  uncle  "  ;  and  John  Hughitt  loved 
him  and  treated  him  as  if  he  had  been  the  son  who  in 
truth  dk".l  in  his  cradle.  When  the  time  came,  he  sent 
the  boy  to  college,  —  he  had  taken  infinite  pride  in  his 
success,  —  and  now  Jasper  was  to  go  back  with  "  the 
best  education  his  country  could  allbrd"  to  work  his 
way  as  he  could  into  the  management  of  the  mills,  and 
the  .immense  mercantile  and  financial  interests  con- 
:  1  with  them.  lie  was,  indeed,  virtual!}'  John 

Jlughitt's  son,  :uid  was  so  regarded  by  his  friends.  Of 
1h'.'.  live  young  friends  who  sat  finishing  his  ice,  or  look 
ing  out  through  his  sp}'-glass,  or  in  otherwise  awaiting 
evening  prayers,  he  \vas  the  only  one  whose  future 
seemed  to  be  deiinitely  determined. 


THE  LAST  DAY.  7 

"  I  say,  Jasper,"  said  Horace  Kennej',  after  they  had 
finished  the  plan  for  the  storehouses,  "  did  3-011  see  old 
Bcrnhardt?" 

u  Of  course  I  did,"  said  Jasper.  Bcrnhardt  was  the 
leader  of  the  band  which  was  to  play  at  Commence 
ment. 

"  Did  you  ask  him  about  the  Adelaide?  " 

"  Adelaide  !  Jove,  no  !  What  possessed  me  !  I  forgot 
it  clean  and  clear.  I  must  have  been  craz}~.  But,  — 
I  don't  know,  —  he  was  full  of  some  stuff  about  two 
trombones.  Is  it  too  late  now?  " 

"  Too  late !  of  course  it  is,  you  good1  soul ;  and  it 
does  not  make  the  least  matter.  Who  cares  whether 
the  Adelaide  is  played  or  not  ?  Like  enough  Miss  Mar 
shall  will  never  think  of  it  again.  If  she  does,  of 
course  she  will  not  care." 

"  But  I  care,"  said  Jasper.  "  I  don't  see  how  I  for 
got  it.  I  mean  to  go  in  now  and  see  Bernhardt.  I 
told  3'ou  she  should  have  the  Adelaide,  and  she  shall ; 
besides,  I  want  to  see  that  fellow  about  my  uncle's  shot- 
bag.  Who  of  you  fellows  wants  to  go  in  ?  I  can  be 
back  to  chapel." 

But  they  all  tried  to  persuade  him  not  to  go.  Horace 
cursed  himself  for  having  said  anything  about  the  Ade 
laide.  But  the  truth  simply  was,  that  Miss  Marshall 
had  spoken  pleasantly  of  the  air,  and  Horace  had  said 
it  should  be  played  at  Commencement,  and  Jasper  had 
undertaken  to  see  to  it.  This  being  so,  they  might  as 
well  have  turned  to  heaving  the  half-finished  Bunker 
Hill  Monument  over,  as  to  stop  him.  lie  bade  them 
make  themselves  comfortable,  and  crossed  alone  to 
Stearns's,  to  drive  a  little  mare  into  Boston,  give  his 
order  about  the  march,  inquire  about  his  uncle's  shot- 
bag,  do  one  other  errand  if  there  were  time,  and  be 
back  for  their  last  meeting  at  chapel  and  tea. 

u  What  a  good  fellow  he  is  !  "  said  Horace,  as  he  ran 
down  stairs.  "There  is  not  a  fellow  in  the  class  who 
deserves  Jasper's  luck  as  Jasper  does." 

"  Born  with  a  silver  spoon,  and  has  alwa}-s  known 
how  to  use  it." 


UPS  AND  DOWNS. 


TT 

- 


CHAPTER     II. 

PUSS  -  AND    BERTHA. 

OBSON'S  choice,"  as  we  are  taught  by  John  Mil- 
ton,  was  the  choice  which  was  given  to  the  Cam 
bridge  undergraduates  of  his  da}T,  by  the  man  to  whom 
they  went  to  hire  horses.  "  You  must  have  the  beast 
who  is  next  the  door  or  none,"  said  Hobson  then. 

But  Stearns,  of  our  New  Cambridge  stable,  in  these 
days  of  which  I  write,  knew  no  such  arbitrary  law  ; 
and  the  prett}T,  glossy  little  Morgan  mare,  which,  was 
led  out  and  harnessed  into  a  "buggy"  at  Jasper's 
order,  knew  his  hand  and  touch  and  voice  as  well  as  did 
the  favorite  in  his  uncle's  stable  at  the  Grange.  Jasper 
had  driven  her,  whenever  he  drove  at  all,  now  for  three 
years.  Stearns  always  managed  to  have  her  ready  at 
Jasper's  order,  —  having,  perhaps,  a  fine  instinct  which 
taught  him  when  Jasper  would  come  to  use  her.  "  She 
is  mine,  pretty  creature,  to  the  extent  of  sixpence," 
Jasper  used  to  say,  quoting  what  was  one  of  the  latest 
Carlylisms  of  the  time.  But  the  sixpence  was  a  large 
one.  For  had  anybody  footed  up  the  three  "  term-bills  " 
which  Stearns  sent  to  Jasper  every  year,  and  which  Mr. 
Ilughitt  punctually  paid,  he  would  have  seen  that  the 
inaii-  was  his  to  an  extent  much  larger  by  that  count 
than  was  his  horse  at  home.  In  the  three  years  that  lie 
u  -rd  her,  those  "term-bills"  would  have  paid  for  het\ 
three  times  over. 

"  I  shall  be  back  before  prayers,"  said  Jasper  to  the 
hostler  ;  and,  as  he  looked  at  his  watch,  he  saw  that  he 
had  an  hour  and  lift}'  minutes  tor  his  three  errands. 

Let  it  be  observed  to  distant  readers,  that,  as  the 
bird  flies,  the  farthest  point  he  was  to  go  to  was  not 


PUSS  —  AND  BEE THA.  9 

four  miles  away.  But,  in  those  primeval  days,  the  only 
public  conve3rance  at  Jasper's  command  was  a  long 
four-horse  omnibus,  such  as  is  now  unknown  in  all  parts 
of  the  world,  unless  they  use  them  in  Alaska,  which 
once  an  hour  would  have  carried  Jasper  to  Boston. 
Under  the  agreement  which  the  young  men  had  made  to 
meet  at  evening  praj^ers,  the  omnibus  was  useless  to 
Jasper. 

"Is  it  the  last  time,  Puss,  that  you  and  I  shall  go 
over  the  causeway  together?  "  said  Jasper,  almost  aloud, 
as  the  little  creature  rushed  toward  town  with  him. 
"How  little  while  it  is  since  I  learned  your  merits, 
pretty  one,  —  that  day  of  the  Watertown  picnic,  when 
Alice  Cohoes  and  I  were  all  too  late,  when  she  would 
have  been  mortified  if  we  had  reported  long  after  the 
rest  of  the  party,  and  when  my  pretty  Puss  took  that 
long  upper  road  with  us,  did  four  miles  in  seventeen 
minutes,  and  then  paced  into  the  village  ahead  of  all 
the  test  of  them,  as  slow  and  demure  as  any  of  the  old 
Quakers  on  the  road."  Thus  his  soliloquy  went  on,  — 
and  one  and  another  memory  of  Alice  Cohoes  came 
into  it, '  and  of  Pauline  and  the  Leslies,  and  wonders 
that  all  the  people  of  his  sophomore  year  should  have 
scattered  so,  —  wonders  whether  Alice  liked  her  new 
husband  as  well,  as  the  husband  liked  her,  —  wonders 
what  women  found  to  like  in  such  veterans.  The  new 
husband  was,  in  fact,  twenty-seven  3*ears  old,  —  six 
years  Jasper's  senior.  Ah  !  it  was  a  short  ride  before 
Puss  brought  him  to  the  toll-house,  and  stopped  of  her 
own  accord  that  he  might  pay  his  toll. 

After  the  bridge  was  crossed,  no  more  such  two-fort}" 
trotting.  -  Perhaps  Jasper  really  loved  the  little  mare 
most  for  what  he  called  the  divine  instinct,  by  which 
she  accommodated  herself  to  relations,  as  different 
from  those  of  the  Arabian  deserts,  as  are  the  entangle 
ments  of  the  narrow  streets  of  Boston.  Never  did  lie 
need  this  instinct  more  than  he  did  to-day.  For,  when 
he  rendered  himself  at  the  office  where  the  Boston  Brig 
ade  Band  received  its  orders,  it  dawned  on  him  for  the 
first  time,  that  the  baud  did  not  sit  at  the  office  all  day 


10  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

and  all  night,  tuning  their  horns  or  practising  marches. 
The  office,  on  the  contrary,  proved  to  be  a  snuffy  little 
room  up  two  flights  of  stairs,  the  door  of  which  no  one 
had  even  taken  the  precaution  to  lock,  seeing  there  was 
nothing  to  steal  there  but  a  rusty  stove,  two  arm-chairs, 
and  a  "Times"  seven  days  old,  —  a  room  in  which 
you  could  not  play  a  trombone,  and  in  which,  at  this 
moment,  there  was  not  so  much  as  one  weary  arpeggio 
note  still  resounding  from  the  forgotten  end  of  the  finest 
twiddle  of  the  last  quickstep  of  the  month's  practice. 

Jasper  stamped  round,  —  knocked  on  the  door,  — 
knocked  at  all  the  doors,  —  went  down  stairs  and 
knocked,  —  went  up  stairs  and  knocked,  —  and  disin 
terred  at  last  a  frightened  copying-girl,  who  was  mak 
ing  a  transcript  of  a  long  mortgage  deed  to  be  ready 
in  the  morning. 

No,  —  she  knew  nothing  about  the  Brigade  Band, — 
believed  their  office  was  down  stairs,  did  not  know  when 
they  came,  did  not  know  when  they  went  away,  did  not 
know  if  they  had  any  secretary,  far  less  knew  who  he 
was,  —  did  not  know  anything,  in  short. 

And,  as  Jasper  retired,  he  was  just  "mad"  enough 
to  say  to  himself,  she  did  not  want  to  know  anything. 
But  she  did,  — that  girl  did,  —  she  wanted  at  that  mo 
ment  very  much  to  know  how  she  could  get  the  grease 
out  of  the  front  breadth  of  her  new  merino.  I  believe 
she  also  wanted  to  know  the  significance  of  the  myth  of 
Ceres.  Most  Boston  girls  of  her  time  did  whom  I 
knew.  But  of  this  I  am  not  certain. 

The  Director  served  Jasper  belter.  The  Directory 
showed  that  the  secretary  of  the  band  was  Mr.  Shrapnel, 
and  that  Mr.  Shrapnel  lived  in  Berlin  Court.  The  Di 
re -tory  also  showed  that  Berlin  Court  opened  from 
Menotomy  Street,  that  Menotomy  Street  ran  from  Sun- 
moon  Street  across  to  Merrimac  Street.  AVith  the  last 
name  -Jasper  was  familiar;  and  so,  after  Ion;.:  delay  in 
these  tentations  into  \\hieh  he  had  been  led,  he  began 
an  experiment  in  Boston  "vogrjiphy. 

He  was  rapidly  threading  Sudlmry  Street  where  it 
rims  down  hill,  —  when  he  met  his  destiny.  I'lidrr  the 


PUSS  — AND  mTHA.  11 

edge  of  the  quaint  old  house  wmra^ifi  -stands  there,  :i 
crowd  had  assembled  so  dense  tharetggjjtA  to  .cb'^'k  the 
mare  again,  and  in  a  moment,  being  porFui  Wfcr^cTowd 
now,  to  ask  what  was  the  matter.  A  teamster  —  not 
drunk,  —  no,  sorry  —  had  made  a  botch  in  turning  the 
corner,  his  wheels  had  slipped,  so  that,  in  spite  of  him, 
he  had  backed  with  his  heavy  load  upon  the  sidewalk, 
—  a  frightened  little  German  boy  had  been  thrown  down 
and  badty  jammed.  This  was  the  stoiy. 

Puss  again,  the  little  Morgan  mare,  understood  her 
part,  —  to  possess  her  soul  in  patience,  and  stand  harm 
less  and  unharmed.  Jasper  was  on  the  sidewalk  in  a 
moment,  —  in  a  minute  he  understood  the  trouble. 
The  little  boy  was  in  the  lap  of  a  motherly  woman  who 
sat  on  the  doorsteps.  The  medical  student  who  had 
been  improvised,  pronounced,  what  everybody  knew, 
that  the  poor  little  leg  was  broken.  All  this  time  the 
child  was  screaming,  the  teamster  protesting  sorrow, 
the  crowd  maledicting,  and  most  persons  advising. 
But  Jasper,  in  a  moment,  discerned  that  the  child  was 
not  friendless,  —  the  girl  with  a  loaf  of  bread  was  the 
child's  sister.  Only  the  girl  could  not  speak  English. 
Nor,  for  that  matter,  could  Jasper  speak  much  German. 
But  thanks  to  five  or  six  terms  of  Follen's  German 
Reader  and  Hermann  and  Dorothea, — thanks  to  dear 
Roelker,  whom  so  many  men  since  and  before  have 
thanked,  —  thanks  to  a  warm  heart  and  determined  res 
olution,  —  Jasper  made  out,  through  the  girl's  repressed 
sobs,  what  her  agonized  words  meant ;  and  he  made 
her  understand,  that,  if  she  would  sit  in  the  buggy,  he 
would  lift  the  little  one  upon  her  lap  on  the  seat,  and 
would  lead  Puss  to  the  home,  —  wherever  the  home 
might  prove  to  be.  It  was  bad  German  which  said  all 
this  ;  but  the  poor  child  understood  enough.  She  climbed 
to  the  seat ;  the  motherly  woman  lifted  the  screaming 
boy  there,  with  help  from  the  teamster,  and  hindrance 
from  twenty  others  ;  Jasper  took  the  little  marc  b}-  the 
head,  and,  guided  b}~  two  capless  and  hatless  boys,  who 
were  delighted  to  be  of  importance,  led  her  from  corner 
to  corner,  not  far,  to  the  two  German  children's  home. 


12  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

Here  he  rang  loudly.  In  a  moment  the  excited  and 
wondering  mother  appeared ;  and,  in  a  minute  more 
again,  Jasper  and  she  had  carried  the  poor  little  fellow 
to  a  bed.  Jasper  made  offers  about  going  for  a  doctor  ; 
but  there  was  no  need.  A  bigger  bo}T,  who  knew 
where  to  go,  was  sent,  and  Jasper  saw  that  he  was  not 
needed.  The  house  was  comfortable  enough,  —  a  little 
two-story  brick  house,  in  which,  had  he  only  known  it, 
these  people  occupied  four  rooms  on  different  floors. 
The}1-  thanked  him  civilly  for  his  attention.  He  prom 
ised  to  call  before  the  week  was  over,  and  see  how  the 
little  Wilhelm  was.  He  found  Puss  the  admired  centre 
of  all  the  bo}Ts  of  the  neighborhood,  took  his  seat  again, 
and  again  started  for  the  discovery  of  Berlin  Court. 
This  time  no  accident  intervened.  What  was  more,* Mr. 
Shrapnel  was  at  home.  "  Would  he  bid  the  band  bring 
the  Adelaide  ?  "  Would  he  ?  Of  course  he  would.  They 
had  selected  it  to  bring.  If  the  gentleman  would  look 
he  would  see.  Here  it  was,  in  the  trombone's  music. 
Adelaide  !  Of  course  they  would  bring  that !  In  fact,  it 
seemed  as  if  they  had  never  thought  of  bringing  any 
thing  beside  !  Jasper  left,  with  that  cheap  feeling  to 
which  boys  of  twenty  are  too  often  reduced  by  pretend 
ers  who  have  a  little  more  brass  than  the}-,  —  that  he 
was  simply  a  fool,  —  at  least,  he  thought  he  had  given 
two  hours,  more  or  less,  to  a  fool's  errand. 

He  looked  at  his  watch  to  see  he  had  thirty-five  min 
utes.  Five  minutes  finished  the  message  for  the  shot- 
bag,  —  two  minutes  more  bought  four  cakes  of  brown 
Windsor  soap  for  a  joke  on  the  fellows,  —  five  minutes 
creeping  brought  him  to  the  Boston  toll-house,  —  and 
then,  "Now's  }Tour  time,  Puss,"  —  and  by  the  middle 
road  to  Stearns's,  eleven  minutes  and  a  half  took  him  to 
Dr.  Webster's  house.  There  Puss  and  he  assumed  a 
gkit  more  sedate;  and  just  as  Paddy  Kicrnan,  the 
•••janilor,"  was  beginning  to  ring  the  first  bell  for  even 
ing  prayers,  Jasper  walked  into  Massachusetts  Twenty- 
seven. 

The  adventure  was  nothing  in  itself.  But  it  seemed 
worth  while  to  tell  it  here  in  the  beginning  of  this  story. 


FUSS  — AND  BEETHA.  13 

Because,  so  far  as  I  know,  it  was  in  this  adventure,  that, 
for  the  first  time,  Jasper  met  his  destiny.  This  tearful, 
brown-faced  Bertha,  who  had  hardly  made  out  his  Ger 
man,  and  hardly  make  him  understand  hers,  —  this  girl 
of  the  heavy  shoes,  the  loaf  of  bread,  the  freckled  face, 
and  the  wounded  brother,  was  to  be  the  woman  to 
whom  Jasper  was  one  day  to  give  the  whole  treasure  of 
a  man's  love,  and  who  was  to  give  him  the  whole  treas 
ure  of  a  woman's.  Neither  of  them  dreamed  of  this, 
this  evening,  nor  thought  of  the  other  for  a  moment. 
But,  after  many  ups  and  downs,  this  was  to  come. 
And  to  tell  the  progress  of  those  ups  and  downs  is  the 
business  of  this  story. 


1 1  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 


CHAPTER     III. 

COMMENCEMENT   DAY. 

A  BRIGHT  morning,  presaging  a  hot  day.  But  no 
-£*-  danger  of  rain  !  The  class,  that  year,  breakfasted 
with  the  President,  in  a  comfortable,  rambling  old 
wooden  house,  which  still  stands,  —  which  was,  in  those 
days,  the  abode  of  a  hearty  and  noble  hospitality. 
Then,  by  gatherings  and  marshallings  and  calls  of  the 
classes,  well  known  to  Harvard  men,  the  procession  of 
graduates  was  formed,  to  move  to  the  church  under  the 
escort  of  the  seniors.  He  whom  they  had  nicknamed 
St.  Leger,  whose  real  name  was  Asaph  Ferguson,  was 
one  of  the  marshals,  chosen  by  the  class  for  good  ad 
dress,  handsome  face  and  figure,  and  ready  tact.  He 
and  Follett  were  here  and  there  and  everywhere,  mak 
ing  old  gentlemen  fall  in,  respectfully  notifying  profes 
sors  and  other  dons  that  all  was  ready,  —  waving  batons 
forward  to  ]\Ir.  liernhardt  and  his  band,  and  backward 
to  loiterers  who  had  not  found  their  places  in  time,  — 
and  at  last  the  class,  radiant  in  shiny  new  round  hats, 
headed  by  the  band,  who  were  playing  the  march  in 
Der  Freischutz,  moved  along  the  front  of  Universit}T 
and  Ilolworthy,  followed  by  what,  in  their  young  en 
thusiasm,  they  really  thought  was  one  half  of  the  wis 
dom,  science,  eloquence,  and  wit  of  America.  For 
these  boys,  let  us  confess  it,  had  not  yet  learned  much 
of  their  own  country  or  its  greatness. 

The  class  numbered  about  seventy.  Of  the  seventy, 
some  thirty,  or  less,  marched  in  silk  gowns,  mostly  of 
the  most  flimsy  and  perilous  material,  but  still  unques 
tionably  silken.  The  academical  customs  had  almost 
faded  out.  It  was  only  on  two  or  three  state  occasions 


COMMENCEMENT  DAT.  15 

that  these  robes  were  worn.  And  no  man  dreamed  of 
adding  to  his  permanent  wardrobe  such  a  garment,  for 
the  improbable  chance  or  the  infrequent  ceremony  when 
it  might  be  used.  But,  to  prepare  for  such  exigencies, 
their  lo}*al  friend,  of  whom  Jasper's  comrades  in  Mas 
sachusetts  spoke  so  gratefully,  —  who  repaired  the  rents 
of  the  cricket-ground  and  the  Delta,  restored  buttons 
which  had  vanished,  and,  in  general,  cared  for  decaying 
broadcloth,  kept  a  narrow  store  of  silk  gowns,  sufficient 
for  Exhibition  purposes  ;  and  for  a  wretched  half-dollar 
the  bo3's  might  hire  one.  These  were  the  flimsier  of  the 
flying  robes  of  the  procession.  Their  number  was  eked 
out  by  those  which  other  boys  had  borrowed  from  their 
friends  among  the  neigboring  clergy,  —  so  that,  by  hook 
and  crook,  the  procession  assumed  the  semblance  of 
academic  dignity. 

Arrived  at  the  church,  the  seniors  opened  to  the  right 
and  left ;  and  the  procession  passed  through,  followed 
then  by  their  young  escort,  who  gathered  in  the  front 
pews.  The  president,  the  venerable  Josiah  Quincy, 
took  his  place  in  the  pulpit  of  the  church ;  which  was 
surrounded,  for  the  occasion,  by  a  large  temporary  plat 
form,  through  which,  here  and  there,  appeared  some 
mysterious  pinnacles  of  painted  wood,  —  a  part  of  the 
architecture  never  very  intelligible,  and  wholly  inexpli 
cable  now  that  their  basis  was  concealed. 

The  fact  that  near  thirty  of  the  young  men  wore  silk 
gowns,  was  sufficient  evidence  that  there  were  to  be  the 
same  number  of  addresses,  longer  or  shorter.  One's 
rank  might  then  be  measured  by  the  length  of  his  ad 
dress.  If  it  were  four  minutes  long,  it  was  the  min 
imum  of  honor  ;  if  it  were  fifteen  minutes,  it  was  what 
they  now  call  summa  cum  laudc.  Thus,  as  in  most 
things,  do  academical  authorities  reverse  the  judgments 
of  an  active  world.  There  wras  one  result  of  this  mul 
titude  of  speakers,  which  later  authorities  at  Cam 
bridge  have  forgotten.  To  hear  each  of  the  speakers 
came  a  certain  clientele  of  his  friends  or  relatives. 
The  church,  therefore,  though  of  considerable  size,  was 
in  those  days  crowded  with  an  audience,  in  which,  tired 


16  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

though  it  soon  was,  there  was  one  sympathetic  corner 
for  each  speaker.  In  latter  days,  they  have  reduced 
the  length  of  the  exercises  two-thirds,  by  diminishing 
the  number  of  the  speakers  in  a  larger  proportion. 
The  audience  diminishes  in  precisely  the  same  ratio 
with  the  speakers. 

Of  our  five  friends  of  Massachusetts  Twentj'-seven, 
Horace  did  the  salutatory  Latin.  He  salved  the  old 
men  and  the  old  women,  the  professors  and  the  tutors, 
the  sophomores  and  the  freshmen,  and  drew  the  annual 
laugh  as  he  looked  at  the  galleries  on  both  sides,  blaz 
ing  with  thin  muslins  and  pink  ribbons,  —  pink  was  in 
that  year,  —  and  salveted  "  vos  quoquethe  pretty  girls  who 
have  done  us  the  honor  to  take  a  part  in  our  annual 
solemnity."  All  our  friends  had  something  or  other  to 
say  upon  the  stage,  in  colloquy,  dissertation,  or  oration. 
Probably  not  one  of  them  would  have  crossed  the 
street  to  change  his  college-rank  b}T  one  or  two  grades  ; 
but  all  of  them  were  glad  to  be  among  the  "  first 
twenty."  And  all  this  speaking,  and  the  music  of  the 
band  which  came  in  for  relief  sometimes,  lasted,  hour 
after  hour,  —  hear  this,  degenerate  moderns,  —  from  nine 
in  the  morning  till  after  two  in  the  afternoon  !  "  The 
fellows  "  went  out,  and  they  came  in ;  they  lounged  in 
the  bookstore,  they  swung  on  certain  chains  in  the  yard  ; 
they  gave  the  last  orders  to  the  men  who  were  arrang-  * 
ing  for  them  entertainments  for  their  friends,  —  not 
then  called  "  spreads,"  as  now  ;  they  hurried  back  to  the 
church,  to  hear  one  favorite  of  the  class  or  another. 
But  there  was  one  close  rally  of  them  and  of  all 
the  audience,  as  the  game  drew  near  its  conclusion, 
as  everybody  else  had  been  bowled  out  b}'  the  unwearied 
president,  and  Jasper  stepped  forward,  a  little  pale,  but 
with  :il most  a  smile  on  his  face,  to  deliver  the  closing 
oration,  —  the  first  honor  of  the  day. 

Xo :  it  makes  little  dillerenee  what  were  the  words  in 
which  his  subject  was  printed  on  the  hill,  '-.Modern 
Conservatism,"  "The  Demand  of  our  Time,"  "New 
Light  and  More,"  "The  Lesson  of  To-day,"  —  they 
call  it  one  thing  or  another  :  that  matters  little.  These 


COMMENCEMENT  DAY. 

timid  but  courageous  young  fellows,  anxidt 
dent  at  once,  who  have  spent  four  years  in 
tiquity,  but  have  spent  the  latter  part  of  those" 
3~ears  in  forecasting  their  own  future,  if  they  are  true 
to  themselves,  always  hit  on  substantially  the  same  line 
of  emotion,  —  it  is  scarcely  thought,  —  and,  by  what 
ever  name  they  call  their  essay,  they  try  to  show  us  in 
the  same  moment  the  caution  of  their  retrospect,  and  the 
cheerfulness  of  their  outlook.  Jasper's  "  oration  "  was 
moulded  chiefly  around  certain  things  which  had  im 
pressed  him  in  the  history  of  the  Greek  democracies. 
He  knew  next  to  nothing  about  them,  as  how  should 
he  ?  Nobody  had  told  him  !  But  in  the  I.  O.  H.  Library 
he  had  found  u  ThirlwalPs  History  of  Greece,"  which  had 
not  long  been  printed  ;  and  he  was  in  fresh  amazement 
over  what  he  thought  its  revelations.  Of  some  of  the 
things  he  had  learned  there,  he  spoke  now,  —  spoke,  be 
it  remembered,  in  words  which  he  had  written  down ; 
then  copied,  then  revised  under  the  careful  eye  of  Prof. 
Edward  Channing,  (blessing  and  honor  be  on  his 
name  !  )  which  then  he  had  committed  word  by  word  to 
memory,  and  had  repeated  in  one  or  two  "rehearsals  " 
before  an  instructor  in  elocution.  Think  of  the  elo 
quence  likely  to  follow  such  a  process  ! 

But  Jasper  was  handsome,  graceful,  and  confident. 
Whatever  else  he~fmew,  he  knew  that  he  could  repeat 
the  words  of  this  -oration,  though  he  were  burning  at 
the  stake.  He  looked,  only  too  carelessly,  round  upon 
the  assembly,  and  began.  His  eye  fell  on  one  and  an 
other  of  the  favorite  belles  in  the  gallery :  he  even  no 
ticed  Miss  Marshall,  and  was  pleased  to  see  that  she 
was  there.  And  as  he  went  mechanically  on  with  Boe- 
otia  and  Epaminondas,  he  was  thinking  of  the  Adelaide, 
and  wondering  if  she  had  noticed  it.  His  eye  ranged 
out  at  the  open  door ;  and  he  could  see  a  lobster-man 
weighing  a  lobster  in  the  street ;  was  even  amused  with 
the  dumb-show,  as  the  purchaser  counted  out  his  pence, 
Jasper's  lips  going  steadily  on  with  the  thirty  tyrants 
of  Athens  and  their  fall,  till  he  was  fairly  startled  when 
he  detected  himself  in  this  odious  parrot's  talk,  and 
2 


18  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

compelled  himself,  b}T  an  effort  of  which  he  was  con 
scious,  to  return  to  some  thought  of  what  he  was  say 
ing,  and  to  renew  the  interest  which  its  idea  had  for 
him  when  he  began.  He  compelled  himself  with  some 
success.  His  eye  lighted,  fortunately  for  him,  on 
two  fine  boys,  wrho,  in  a  favorable  seat,  were  leaning 
forward,  their  arms  just  supported  by  the  top  of  a  pew, 
and  drinking  in  his  words  as  if  he  were  an  oracle.  Jas 
per's  eyes  ceased  wandering,  and  fixed  on  the  eyes  of  one 
of  these  boys.  He  even  forgot  the  rest  of  his  audience, 
as  he  spoke  to  him,  and,  with  a  revulsion,  of  wrhich  he 
was  himself  aware,  spoke  with  a  tone  now  wholly  real 
and  natural,  as  if  the  words  were  new  to  him,  when  at 
the  end  of  a  paragraph  he  came  upon  the  epigram,  — 

"  Never  did  Senate  of  Greeks  rise  to  the  sacrifices 
of  Christian  patriotism.  Separate  men  were  unselfish  ; 
but  never  did  an  assembly  act  as  one.  We  must  come 
later  down,  into  another  civilization,  before  we  find  a 
unanimous  Senate,  of  one  heart  and  one  soul,  pledge 
to  a  country  just  born  in  throes  of  agon}T,  their  lives, 
their  fortunes,  and  their  sacred  honor." 

There  was  a  freshness  in  the  tone  which  struck  on 
the  jaded  audience  like  water-drops  on  the  dry  desert. 

From  the  seniors  before  him,  from  old  men  behind 
them,  even  from  women  in  the  galleries,  there  came  a 
hearty  round  of  hand  applause ;  not  a  noisy  manufac 
ture  of  a  sympathetic  claque,  but  the  genuine  sympathy 
of  an  assembly  which  believed.  Jasper  waited  till  it 
seemed  over,  tried  to  begin  then  with, — 

"  The  lesson  which  Athens  teaches,"  —  as  it  was  writ 
down  on  the  manuscript  which  the  good  old  President 
held  behind  him,  but  was  interrupted  by  a  second  and 
by  a  third  wave  of  the  s;une  applause,  which  then  died 
unwillingly  away.  When  it  was  hushed,  Jasper  stepped 
forward  again  to  say, — 

"  The  lesson  which  .Athens  teaches," —  and  in  the  in 
stant  i'elt  that  he  had  forgotten  this  catch-word,  and  had 
no  idea  where  he  was  to  begin.  He  had  been  wholly 
absorbed,  as  the  applause  spent  itself,  in  watching  the 
eagerness  of  the  two  boys  who  were  his  audience. 


COMMENCEMENT  DAY.  19 

It  was  a  trifle  in  itself,  that  slip  of  memory  :  it  was 
probably  to  Jasper  one  of  the  prime  blessings  of  his 
early  lii'e.  For  by  a  divine  instinct,  b}r  a  rapidit}'  of 
perception  for  which  words  have  no  name,  he  knew 
that  he  had  lost  the  catch-word ;  and  he  did  not  care 
that  he  had  lost  it.  He  did  not  sacrifice  the  infinites 
imal  differential  of  the  millionth  part  of  a  second  in 
seeking  for  it.  What  he  was  there  for,  as  he  now  felt, 
though  it  had  never  crossed  his  mind  before,  was  that 
those  two  eager  boys,  who  would  be  freshmen  to-morrow 
night,  should  take  true  views  and  manly,  of  the  place 
of  men  in  a  republic.  He  saw  that  they  believed  in 
him,  whoever  they  were.  He  saw  that  he  had  a  golden 
opportunity  with  them.  Perfectly  careless,  therefore, 
for  the  loss  of  the  catch-word,  perfectly  careless  of  what 
he  had  written  down,  perfectly  careless  of  himself,  he 
went  on  speaking  across  the  audience  to  those  two. 

"  You  see,  do  you  not?  I  am  sure  you  see,  or  I  can 
make  you  see,  that  so  long  as  those  men  thought  of 
themselves,  —  of  their  own  eating  and  drinking,  their 
own  clothes  and  houses,  their  jealousies  and  quarrels, 
—  they  were  thinking  of  things  so  small  that  they  could 
not  be  great  men.  You  see,  or  I  am  sure  I  can  make 
you  see,  that  it  is  only  when  men  have  an  object  nobler 
than  such  trash  as  that,  that  they  come  into  the  line  of 
what  we  call  greatness,  or  that  the  plans  thcay  make,  are 
worth  even  their  own  remembering."  This  was  the 
idea  which  was  on  his  paper,  in  words  more  like  fustian. 
Fortunately  for  Jasper,  he  had  now  cut  wholly  loose 
from  the  paper  ;  and  the  intense  earnestness  with  which 
he  spoke  in  these  sentences  to  the  two  boys  was  his  sal 
vation.  He  saw,  more  than  ever,  that  they  believed  in 
him,  that  they  comprehended  him.  For  the  first  time 
in  his  life,  he  drank  in  the  delicious  inspiration  which 
is  for  the  moment  the  divine  life  of  the  speaker  who  is 
at  one  with  his  audience,  no  matter  whether  that  audi 
ence  is  large  or  small.  Jasper's  thus  far  was  two. 
But,  in  this  inspiration,  he  went  on.  The  house  was 
hushed  as  death  in  presence  of  his  earnestness.  The 
still  calm  did  not  frighten  him,  however  ;  nothing  fright- 


20  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

ened  him.  Of  course  there  was  no  danger  now.  It 
was  divine  power  by  which  Jasper  was  carried  on,  — 
the  divine  power  of  a  human  soul  in  complete  accord 
with  one,  two,  or  three  other  souls,  doing  its  infinite 
best  to  move  or  to  persuade  them.  Step  b}'  step  of  his 
appeal  he  pressed  forward  much  as  he  had  meant  to  do  ; 
for  his  thought  had  been  serious  in  the  preparation  of 
the  whole.  And  for  five  minutes  of  absolute  self-for- 
getfulness  to  him, — five  minutes  of  eager,  breathless, 
confident  and  excited  attention  of  his  audience,  —  he 
told  the  two  bo}Ts,  and  others  around  them,  whom  he 
began  to  notice  now,  what  was  the  swa}T  over  the  world 
which  in  our  time  men  would  win,  when  for  the  world 
they  were  ready  to  live,  and  for  the  world  to  die.  Of 
course  he  said  a  word  then  on  the  magnificent  prospect 
which  the  world  of  to-day  offers  to  such  devotion. 
And,  as  he  said  this,  his  mind  acting  as  all  along  it 
did,  a  hundred  times  as  fast  as  his  lips,  he  said  to  him 
self  as  he  spoke,  "  Wiry,  this  is  just  what  Tennyson 
sa3rs  in  '  Locksley  Hall ! '  —  why,  yes  !  that  was  what  I 
copied  out,  to  finish  my  oration  with,  —  why,  yes  !  this 
is  my  oration  !  I  must  finish  it  now  ;  "  and  so  he  came 
to  the  words  again,  which  of  all  this  outburst  were  the 
only  words  upon  the  manuscript,  — 

"  Not  in  vain  the  future  beacons :  onward,  forward,  let  us 

range,  — 
Let  the  peoples  spin  forever  down  the  ringing  grooves  of 

change. 
Through  the  shadow  of  the  world,  we  sweep  into  the  wider 

day  : 
Better  iifty  years  of  Europe,  than  a  cycle  of  Cathay." 

And  then,  with  a  smile  of  the  real  triumph  which  he 
felt,  he  was  done.  He  made  his  bow  to  his  audience, 
of  course ;  that  etiquette  reminded  him  that  he  must 
turn  and  bow  to  Mr.  Quincv.  Then,  he  hardly  knew 
how,  he  stopped  down  the  steps  to  whore  the  fellows 
were  now  chipping  and  stamping,  hardly  held  in  from 
cheering,  and  staggered  into  the  scat  which  Horace 
kopt  open  for  him ;  and,  pale  and  frightened,  for  the 


COMMENCEMENT  DA  Y.  2 1 

first  time  nestled  back  into  it,  to  wonder  with  an  infinite 
wonder,  as  he  reflected  on  what  he  had  been  doing. 

And  the  assembly  had  waited  dumb  while  he  bowed 
to  them,  waited  till  they  saw  his  back  as  he  bowed  to 
the  President,  had  roused  then  to  some  consciousness 
that  this  appeal  was  over,  when  he  stepped,  almost 
staggered  forward,  across  the  platform;  and  then  it 
burst  into  that  rapture  of  applause  which  sounds  so 
seldom,  which  is  perhaps  only  due  to  youth,  simplicit}', 
intense  conviction  and  emotion  together,  when  they  all 
appeal  to  us  as  one. 

It  is  strange  to  say,  the  words  from  Tenn}Tson  were 
new  to  ninety-nine  out  of  a  hundred  in  that  assembly. 
They  had  been  published  in  London  only  a  few  months 
before ;  and  Jasper's  quotation  was  probably  the  first 
of  ten  thousand  repetitions  of  them  before  such  audi 
ences  in  the  generation  which  has  since  gone  by. 

Wave  after  wave  of  applause  swept  over  the  assem 
bly.  Horace  found  some  means  to  slip  his  hand  into 
Jasper's.  That  was  a  comfort ;  and,  by  the  time  still 
ness  came,  he  was  as  ready  as  any  man  for  his  part  in 
the  closing  ceremonies. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  detail  the  course  of  those  sol 
emnities.  An  hour  or  less  closed  them  all.  And  then, 
relieved  at  last  from  escort  duty,  these  young  men,  each 
with  a  parchment  diploma  tied  with  a  light  blue  ribbon, 
ran  joyfully,  and  with  the  sense  of  complete  freedom,  to 
the  room  or  suite  of  rooms  where  the  party  of  his  friends 
—  ladies  and  gentlemen,  flames  and  teachers,  father's 
friends  and  mother's  friends  —  were  assembled.  These 
people  had  earned  their  appetites,  and  were  to  refresh 
themselves,  as  they  could,  with  salmon,  lobster  salad, 
sandwiches,  raspberries  and  cream,  and  the  other  lux 
uries  of  a  summer  collation.  In  those  days,  such  parties 
were  at  every  exhibition,  at  "  Class  Da}',"  and  at  Com 
mencement.  Never  is  hospitality  more  charming,  no 
where  are  hosts  more  sedulous,  nowhere  are  women  more 
lovel}-,  never  is  sympathy  more  genuine,  or  talk  more 
witty  or  more  true.  Jasper  was  supported  by  Horace 


22  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

and  George.  He  was  happy.  He  was  a  freeman  ;  he 
had  pleased  his  friends  ;  he  was  not  himself  disap 
pointed.  No  one  could  flatter  him.  The  truth  itself 
as  to  what  he  had  done  that  .day  was  the  best  possible 
compliment.  No  one  tried  to  flatter  him.  His  friends 
were  proud  of  him.  His  teachers  were  more  than  satis 
fied  with  him.  Everybody  admired  him.  "Dear  boy," 
said  Dr.  Liston,  as  he  pressed  his  hand  fondly,  "  I  am 
so  glad  for  you.  If  only  she  could  have  been  here." 

And  Jasper  bowed  ;  he  knew  the  good  doctor  meant 
his  mother. 

"  Kenney,"  said  Dr.  Webber,  —  if  he  was  the  divinity 
professor  of  those  days,  —  "I  have  heard  nothing  so 
fine  as  your  friend's  oration,  in  the  Commencements  of 
thirty  years,  No  !  fine  is  not  the  word  ;  I  have  heard 
nothing  so  strong,  so  manly,  and  so  true." 

"  You  use  just  the  right  words,  sir,"  said  Horace,  de 
lighted.  "  When  you  know  him  as  we  do,  you  will 
know  he  is  himself  true,  manl}',  and  strong." 

"  He  is  going  back  to  Michigan?  " 

"  Yes  sir  !  He  has  a  splendid  opening,  almost  in  the 
line  he  describes.  His  uncle  is  rich ;  and  his  enter 
prises  cover  half  that  country.  And  Jasper  will  be 
needed  in  them  all." 

"  So  the  President  told  me.  I  remember  no  young 
man  who  has  so  auspicious  a  beginning." 

So  sped  the  afternoon.  At  last  it  was  over.  They 
all  went  to  the  President's  to  tea  ;  and  at  last  that  was 
over.  As  Jasper  went  up  at  ten  o'clock  at  night,  he 
met  Horace  on  his  way  to  his  room. 

"  Good-night,  old  fellow  !  There  is  a  letter  for  you 
on  3'our  table.  I  brought  it  from  the  office." 

And  Jasper  ran  up  two  stairs  at  a  time,  struck  a 
match,  and  found  it.  The  hand  was  awkward  and  not 
familiar;  but  he  knew  the  name. 

DEAR  Mu.  JASPER, — I  rite  these  lines  to  beg  you. 
to  come  home  imediately.  We  have,  had  a  horid 
lire,  wich  is  not  indeed  out,  at  this  riting.  It  is  with 


COMMENCEMENT  DA  Y.  23 

distress  that  I  inform  you  that  Mr.  Hughitt  stept  off 
the  roof  of  the  lenetoo  as  he  was  carrying  a  hose,  and 
never  spoke  another  word.  We  have  been  working  all 
night ;  and  I  hope  still  we  shall  save  the  north  warf  : 
but  the  others  are  all  gone.  The  Sarah  is  burnt  to  the 
water,  and  the  Thetis  and  the  Jasper ;  indeed,  The 
Mary  Ann  wich  is  at  Green  Bay,  is  the  only  vessel  left. 
Come  as  soon  as  you  can,  and  excuse  haste. 
Yours  to  command, 

ANDREW  HAZLITT. 

Andrew  Hazlitt  was  the  oldest  of  the  fresh-water 
skippers,  —  a  favorite  of  Mr.  Hughitt's  and  of  Jasper. 

Jasper  read  his  letter  twice,  and  then  lighted  a  cigar. 
Then  he  reached  far  out  of  his  window,  and  cried,  "  St. 
Leger  !  St.  Leger  !  " 

A  head-  appeared  from  the  other  entry  of  Massa 
chusetts. 

"Are  you  undressed,  St.  Leger?" 

"No!  what's  up?" 

"  I  wish  you  would  come  round."  And  Ferguson, 
whom  they  called  St.  Leger  for  fun,  came,  —  came 
quickly.  As  he  ran  into  the  room,  he  found  Jasper 
making  rings  of  cigar-smoke.  Jasper  gave  him  a  cigar, 
but,  before  he  lighted  it,  handed  him  the  letter,  which 
he  read. 

"  What  does  all  this  mean,  Jasper?  " 

"  It  means,  my  dear  boy,  that  I  am  a  beggar." 


24  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

HOT   AND   TIRED. 

TF  any  one  have  supposed  that  Jasper's  blunt  an- 
-  nouncement  to  Ferguson  of  the  great  misfortune  that 
was  on  him,  showed  want  of  affection  for  John  Ilughitt, 
his  uncle,  or  in  any  way  a  hardness  of  heart  in  the 
midst  of  catastrophe,  it  is  because  he  does  not  know 
young  men  well,  and,  which  may  be  pardoned,  because 
he  does  not  know  Jasper  Rising.  The  truth  is,  that 
with  young  fellows  like  these  in  their  closest  intimacy, 
a  great  deal  is  taken  for  granted  ;  and  there  is  what  to 
cynics  seems  an  affected  reticence,  when  the}'  have  to 
deal  with  matters  of  affection,  of  sentiment,  or  other 
phases  of  the  inner  life.  In  this  case  the  whole  elec 
tricity  of  the  day's  thunder-cloud  had  flashed  out  in  an 
instant.  In  the  midst  of  praise  and  congratulation  and 
flattery.  Jasper  had  caught  intimations  not  unlike  what 
Dr.  Webber  had  expressed  to  Horace  ;  and,  fairly  or 
not,  lie  had  the  notion  that  people  thought  it  was  easier 
for  him  to  speak  bravely  because  lie  was  a  rich  man,  or 
next  to  a  rich  111:111.  There  was  not  a  feeling  of  envy  of 
hN  companions,  for  Jasper  was  not  a  fool,  but  an  im- 
'<>n  that  he  could  not  lie  rated  for  his  own  merits, 
because  he  had  the  luxury  of  fortune.  And  therefore 
it  was,  that,  when  lie  saw  Asaph's  honest  face  all  struij;- 
gliii'.r  with  sympathy  which  Asaph  was  powerless  to 
speak,  his  eyes  tilling  with  tears  which  Asaph  had  no 
wish  to  check.  —  when  Asaph  Blundered  out  his  (jiies- 
lion,  "What  does  this  mean?"  Jasper  replied  by  an 
ejaculation  quite  as  Jar  from  the  deepest  grief  of  the 
moment,  an  ejaculation,  which,  if  you  opened  it  out  to 
the  full  extent  of  words,  would  mean  exactly  this  : 


7/07'  AND    TIRED.  If  U  JY  4  25 


"  There  is  only  this  comfort  in  it  all,  th 

lows  and  I  are  all  equals  in  the  world. 

start  on  the  world  without  favors,  why,  just  so" 

There  was  no  prayer-bell  the  next  morning  ;  but  Jas 
per  woke,  of  course,  at  six  minutes  before  six,  just  as 
regularly  as  if  Kiernan  were  beginning  again  on  the 
"  tap,  tap,  tap,"  of  the  "second  bell ;"  woke  from  a 
sleep  as  steady  and  sound  as  if  he  had  not  been  the 
hero  of  the  day  before,  and  had  not  learned  at  night 
the  saddest  news  he  had  heard,  with  one  great  and  in 
finite  exception,  since  he  was  born  ;  first  of  all,  to  the 
thought  that  the  day  had  come  at  last  for  which  he  had 
been  hoping  in  most  of  the  mornings  for  four  years  past, 
the  day  when  he  should  not  have  to  rise  at  the  tap  of 
the  bell,  but  might  turn  over  and  take  one  nap  more  ; 
woke,  alas  !  to  have  the  second  thought  come  in  a  mo 
ment,  that  there  was  something  else  before  him  than 
another  nap,  and  to  the  consciousness,  alas  !  that  there 
was  no  comfort  in  the  bed,  and  little  comfort  any 
where  that  day. 

After  breakfast,  the  four  came  up  again  to  Jasper's 
room,  quietly  enough  this  time,  and  very  thoughtfully. 
All  of  them  had  the  memory  of  that  Tuesday  afternoon, 
with  its  nonsense  about  the  way  in  which  their  fortunes 
should  be  made,  and  its  certainty  that  everybody,  if  he 
chose,  might  lean  on  Jasper  in  the  making.  And  now 
all  of  his  friends,  with  the  carefulness  of  }Toung  men, 
which  is  a  very  different  thing  from  that  of  men  who 
are  used  to  care,  were  wondering  what  they  could  do  to 
relieve  Jasper's  anxiety,  and,  almost  by  a  law  of  Na 
ture,  drifted  together  here  to  make  such  offer  and  such 
suggestion  as  each  man  could,  and  to  relieve  him,  as 
far  as  they  could,  at  the  least,  of  petty  annoyance. 

Ferguson  had  told  the  others,  and  Ferguson's  advice 
was  substantially  best  worth  their  taking.  Horace  was 
to  stay  in  Cambridge  three  or  four  weeks  to  work  over 
a  bo}'  who  was  behind-hand  in  his  mathematics  for  the 
fre-hinan  examination.  He  therefore  undertook  the 
clearing  Jasper's  rooms,  the  sale  of  his  furniture,  the 
packing  of  his  books,  and  the  forwarding  of  the  boxes 


26  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

to  Jasper  wherever  he  might  be.  "  Hard  to  tell  that," 
said  poor  Jasper.  Horace  was  also  to  pay  Jasper's 
bills,  of  which  he  made  a  list,  not  doubtful  as  to 
amount,  nor  fearful,  indeed.  His  uncle  had  just  made 
him  a  remittance,  quite  large  enough  to  clear  everything  ; 
and  though  the  fellows  all  begged  him  to  take  money 
from  them,  to  pay  them  when  he  should  "have  a  chance, 
3*ou  know,"  Jasper  said  no  !  He  would  keep  a  hundred 
and  iii'ty  dollars,  and  would  leave  the  rest  in  Asaph's 
care  and  Horace's.  "  Hard  on  old  Harvard,"  said  lie, 
u  if  with  '  the  best  education  my  country _can  afford,'  a 
hundred  and  fifty  dollars  will  not  start  me  somewhere  "  ; 
not  that  he  had  any  real  expectation  of  any  resurrection 
of  the  lumber  affairs.  But  Jasper,  better  than  an}'  of 
them,  knew  the  country,  knew  the  West,  and  knew 
himself.  I  am  not  sure  but  the  experience  of  the  Com 
mencement  platform,  of  the  presence  of  mind  with  which 
he  had  plucked  safety  and  victory  there,  out  of  the  failure 
of  his  preconcerted  plans,  had  a  good  deal  to  do  with 
his  confidence  as  to  himself  of  to-day. 

So  they  talked,  so  they  decided,  not  saying  much  of 
the  great  grief  of  personal  loss,  but  feeling  it  all  the 
same,  while  Jasper,  with  George's  help,  filled  up  one 
and  another  trunk  with  clothes,  packed  one  smaller 
valise  for  immediate  purposes,  sat  down,  every  now  and 
then,  to  write  a  note  of  farewell  and  apology  to  Mrs. 
Quincy,  to  Mrs.  Channing,  to  Judge  Story,  or  to  others 
who  hud  been  kind  to  him;  remembered  one  and 
another  forgotten  commission,  which  he  dictated  to  the 
faiihi'ul  and  accurate  Ferguson;  and  so  at  noon,  lock 
ing  up  for  the  moment  the  chaos  of  the  room,  but  ves- 
v  so  pretty  and  comfortable,  they  went  with  him 
to  the  omnibus  at  AVilhml's,  and  bade  him  good-by. 

Five  in  the  afternoon  saw  Jasper  in  the  Norwich  train 
on  his  way  to  New  York.  He  had  made  his  state  fare 
well  calls  in  Boston  on  the  old  family  friends,  and  others 
who  had  been  kind  to  him  there,  lie  had  hnd  a  lon^ 
and  thoroughly  discouraging  talk  with  Kdmes[.,;i  ^ 
Co.,  his  uncle's  business  friends  in  Boston,  to  whom  he 
had  sometimes  had  occasion  to  go  before,  with  one  or 


HOT  AND   TIEED.  27 

another  commission  about  money  or  affairs.  The 
Eclmeston  he  liked  was  in  Maine.  From  the  other 
Edmeston,  if  indeed  he  were  not  the  partner  named 
Lavingstone,  Jasper  got  no  comfort.  The  truth  wras, 
that  the  country  was  just  on  the  eve  of  a  convulsion  ; 
and  men  of  real  intelligence  and  foresight  knew  it  was. 
Ever}T  ship  was  running  before  the  wind,  with  all  its 
flying  kites  out.  No  one  dared  take  in  an  inch  of  sail ; 
and  3~et  there  were  a  hundred  reasons  for  being  sure 
that  a  complete  cj'clone  would  be  on  them  soon. 
When,  at  such  an  instant,  you  see  from  your  own  deck 
one  of  the  outside  cruisers  of  the  fleet  flap  over  on  her 
beam-ends, — when  you.  see  her  rise  for  an  instant,  only 
because  all  her  top-hamper  is  gone,  and  one,  two,  or 
three  of  her  masts  are  snapped  and  trailing  in  ruin 
from  their  stumps,  —  you  are  in  no  condition,  while 
wondering  at  what  moment  the  storm  may  strike  you, 
to  say  much  to  anj'bocty  in  the  way  of  encouragement. 
All  the  great  typhoons  which  have  swept  away  credit 
and  commerce  in  England  and  America  have  been  pre 
ceded  by  special  accidents,  which  seemed  wholly  sep 
arate  or  independent,  in  wh.ich  one  or  another  strong 
firm  went  under.  Separate  or  sporadic  such  accidents 
seem.  But  each  one  of  them  is  enough  to  give  one 
more  hint  of  the  shakiness  of  all  foundations.  And  so 
each  one  does  vastly  more  than  it  would  do  at  any 
other  time  to  abate  and  chill  that  mutual  confidence 
which  is  the  foundation  of  all  our  enterprises  of  to-day. 

Jasper  came  to  the  station,  therefore,  hot,  tired,  and 
discouraged.  The  da}'  was  one  of  those  dragging  sultry 
days  of  middle  July.  Half  the  people  he  had  tried  to 
see  were  not  at  home,  —  an  experience  which  is  one  of 
the  most  depressing  ones  on  days  when  you  are  so  cast 
down  or  jaded,  that  3'ou  would  be  glad  of  shade  and  a 
chair,  even  if  it  were  in  an  ogre's  cave  that  they  were 
offered  you.  The  people  he  had  found  were  not  those 
he  wanted  to  find,  —  another  misfortune  ;  and  the  only 
one  to  whom  he  went  for  counsel  or  suggestion  had 
offered  him  none. 

So  Jasper  was  hot,  tired,  and  discouraged. 


28  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

Hot,  tired,  and  discouraged,  he  rode  to  Framingham, 
which  is  the  first  station  for  express-trains  west  of 
Boston. 

It  was  a  little  thing  that  roused  him  there,  but  it 
was  enough  to  give  a  different  color  to  his  afternoon 
and  evening.  He  had  a  pretty  habit,  which  I  only 
knew  in  one  other  man,  of  filling  a  mug  at  the  station 
water-tap  in  the  five  minutes'  stop  of  a  train  for  wood 
and  water,  of  carrying  it  along  the  side  of  the  train, 
and  offering  it  to  tired  and  hot-looking  women  sitting 
within,  who  were  afraid  to  go  out  and  seek  it  for  them 
selves.  After  years  have  introduced  the  water-boys  in 
cars,  or  the  travelling  water-butt  and  faucet.  But,  in 
the  earlier  days  I  write  of,  Jasper  found  eager  welcome 
for  his  cup  of  cold  water,  and  never  travelled  in  hot 
weather  without  trying  the  experiment,  almost  as  of 
course.  As  he  passed  along  with  his  second  mugfull, 
and  looked  up  at  the  open  windows,  his  eye  caught  on 
a  face  which  seemed  not  strange  ;  and  in  a  moment,  when 
the  girl  he  looked  upon  said  prettily, "  Ic-h  danke,"  Jasper 
saw  that  she  was  the  German  girl  whom  only  on  Tues 
day  ho  had  picked  up  in  Sudbnry  Street,  and  carried 
with  her  little  brother  to  their  home.  He  ran  back 
with  his  empty  mug,  then  came  at  once  into  that  car  to 
join  her,  —  and  of  course  was  free  now  from  this  won 
dering  and  brooding,  —  the  suspense  and  questioning 
which  had  been  the  curse  of  the  last  twelve  hours. 

Sure  enough  the  little  lame  boy  was  there  also.  His 
lei:  was  nicely  done  up  in  splints,  and  he  sitting,  not 
very  sorry  to  be  the  hero  of  the,  occasion,  at  full  length 
on  the  seat  he  occupied.  Bertha's  mother,  careful, 
anxious,  thoroughly  respectable,  and  greatly  frightened, 
:md  !>'.'rtha  herself,  made  all  the  rest  of  the  party. 
Jasper's  lir.-,1  words,  in  poor  enough  ( Icrman,  were  to 
excuse  himself  for  leaving  Boston  without,  coining  to  in 
quire  after  lus  little  charge.  Then,  J>v  hook  and  by 
crook,  he  made  out  the  detail  of  their  story  and  plans. 

The  doctor  had  set  the  little  boy's  broken  le;r,  as  he 
saw.  Nor  was  the  fracture  a  very  IKK!  one.  But  it 
would  need  time  lor  the  healing  ;  ami  the  time  would 


HOT  AND   TIEED.  29 

have  been  tedious  in  so  hot  and  confined  a  region  as 
that  which  Jasper  had  found  them  in  in  Boston.  So  as 
Mrs.  Schwarz  had  a  brother,  a  lieber  theurer  Brudcr, 
who  had  a  pleasant  house  in  the  highlands  of  New  Jer 
sey,  not  far  out  of  New  York,  they  had,  with  the  doc 
tor's  permission  and  connivance,  started  to  take  the 
little  fellow  there,  evidently  sure  of  a  hospitable  wel 
come.  Indeed,  as  Jasper  made  out,  Bertha  had  already 
been  invited  for  a  visit  in  her  vacation,  and  would  have 
gone  alone.  Jasper  pleased  himself  with  the  notion 
that  he  could  be  of  some  service  to  them  in  the  transfer 
to  and  from  the  Norwich  boat ;  and,  in  the  amusements 
and  difficulties  of  talking  German  with  them,  was  well 
kept  from  brooding  over  his  own  position,  in  the  ride, 
which  is  not  a  long  one,*!br  the  rest  of  the  way  to  Nor 
wich.  Arrived  there,  it  was  true  enough  that  his  pres 
ence  was  a  real  advantage.  How  they  expected  to 
transfer  poor  little  Wil.  I  hardly  know.  The  transfer 
was  made  by  Jasper's  bodily  taking  the  child  in  his 
arms,  after  the  great  mass  of  travel  had  gone  b}r.  Then 
when  two  women  stopped  on  the  gang-way  to  wonder 
if  they  must  go,  and  inquire  where  their  trunks  were,  — 
or  when  an  orange-seller  selected  the  middle  of  a  flight 
of  stairs  for  his  trade,  —  or  when  a  stout  gentleman  set 
down  two  valises  and  a  band-box  in  the  door-wa}r  of  a 
cabin,  while  he  counted  his  money  and  hunted  up  the 
baggage-checks  which  he  would  need  the  next  morning, 
Jasper's  cheery  loud  voice,  "  Please  make  way  for  this 
boy,  —  will  you  let  this  boy  pass, —  will  you  step  aside 
for  this  boy,  —  this  boy  is  lame  if  you  please,"  — 
cleared  the  track  once  and  again,  till  the  little  fellow 
was  comfortably  disposed  of  in  a  state-room,  and  the 
women  had  him  again  in  their  especial  care. 

At  the  landing  in  New  York  the  same  scene  was  re 
newed.  They  were  not  to  go  at  once  to  the  country  home, 
but  were  to  report  at  the  store,  —  as  it  was  vaguely 
called,  — which  proved  to  be  the  counting-room  of  a  great 
wholesale  basket  establishment  in  which  Mr.  Kaufmann 
Baum  was  a  junior  partner.  ' '  Will  you  have  a  carriage, 
sir," —  "  Here's  your  nice  comfortable  carriage,"  and 


30  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

the  rest  of  the  war-cries  of  the  Six  Nations,  who  still  as 
semble  in  barbaric  pomp  at  the  New-York  landing  as 
five  of  them  did  when  llendrick  Hudson  first  stepped 
ashore,  would  have  been  to  poor  Bertha's  mother  as 
unintelligible  as  the  classical  Onondaga  itself  was  to  the 
English  seaman  then.  But  Jasper  had  kept  his  forces 
well  in  hand.  You  always  arrive  in  New  York  on 
these  Eastern  boats  an  hour  or  two  before  the  great 
city  is  itself  awake,  always  excepting  that  guard,  which, 
as  above,  by  night  and  day  patrols  its  shores.  With 
difficulty  untold,  however,  Jasper  made  his  friends  un 
derstand  that  Mr.  Baum  would  certainly  not  be  at  the 
counting-room  before  nine  o'clock  ;  and  so,  as  I  sa}T,  he 
held  them  in  hand,  nor  let  them  rush  on  too  soon  to 
Richmond.  At  nine  he  liberated  them.  He  had  used 
his  skill  in  physiognomy  well,  in  selecting  an  amiable 
chief  from  the  men  of  the  war-whoops,  —  I  think  a  Scot 
of  the  clan  of  McDougal.  Again  he  lifted  little  Wil. 
to  a  seat.  They  found  without  mistake  the  counting- 
room,  behind  more  bab}~-wagons  and  market-baskets 
and  baskets  without  a  name,  than  Jasper  had  before 
known  there  were  in  the  world.  Although  Mr.  Baum 
would  not  be  there  for  an  hour,  he  would  be  there  then  ; 
and  Jasper  was  able  to  leave  them,  confident  that  they 
were  comfortable,  and  that,  as  far  as  they  were  con 
cerned,  all  was  well. 

So  much  had  the  little  German  girl  done  for  him  on 
what  would  else  have  been  the  hardest  day  of  his  life. 
She  had  kept  him  from  himself,  —  no  slight  protection. 


AUNT  MARY.  31 


CHAPTER    V. 

AUNT   MARY. 

of  the  social  contrasts  of  our  modern  life  are 
more  curious  than  some  of  those  which  show  them 
selves  in  the  condition  of  emigrants  from  the  same 
family,  who  meet  in  America  after  long  separation.  It 
was  certainly  no  want  of  natural  affection  which  had 
kept  Bertha's  mother  and  her  uncle  parted  in  the  few 
months  since  Mr.  Schwarz  and  his  family  had  arrived 
in  Boston.  So  soon  as  they  had  arrived  Mrs.  Schwarz 
had  written  to  her  brother,  and  had  received  from  him 
that  cordial  invitation  to  join  him  on  as  long  a  visit  as 
she  would  care  to  make,  which  she  was  now  accepting. 
From  week  to  week  almost,  she  had  proposed  to  make 
the  visit,  and  from  week  to  week  it  had  been  deferred. 
From  week  to  week,  for  the  same  reason,  the, prosper 
ous,  active,  New  York  merchant,  to  whom  every  hour 
was  precious,  had  dismissed  from  his  mind  any  wish  to 
go  to  Boston  to  find  his  sister.  He  knew  perfectly  well, 
that  he  was  more  prosperous  in  external  affairs  than  her 
husband  was,  and,  in  whatever  way  was  courteous,  he 
had  offered  such  facilities  and  helps  as  he  could,  to  aid 
in  their  establishment  in  their  new  home.  But  his 
brother-in-law  Schwarz  was  not  in  need.  He  was  as 
proud  a  man  as  was  Kaufmann  Baum,  and  not  in  the 
habit  of  asking  help  of  any  man,  unless  "he  needed  it. 
It  was  more  than  twenty  years  since  Baum  had  crossed 
the  Atlantic,  leaving  his  sister  a  little  child,  the  j'oungest 
of  the  immense  family,  which  was  but  just  beginning  to 
swarm. 

Kaufmann  Baum  had   in  that  time  thriven  in  his 
worldly  affairs  ;    and  when  our  little  Bertha  and  her 


32  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

lame  brother  and  her  mother  found  him  in  New  York, 
he  was,  not  a  rich  man,  but  a  successful  merchant  of 
fifty  3'ears  old,  who  had  in  his  hands  the  management 
of  the  business  of  a  large  firm,  and  had  the  thorough 
respect  and  confidence  of  all  men  with  whom  he  had  to 
do.  It  was  thirty  years  since  he  first  left  Germau}T,  — 
his  \"oungest  sister,  Margaret,  the  Mrs.  Schwarz  whom 
he  now  met,  then  little  more  than  a  bab}\  In  the  ear 
lier  part  of  that  time  he  had  made  one  or  two  visits  to 
Hamburg ;  but  for  the  last  twenty  years,  the  induce 
ments  to  cross  the  ocean  had  been  less,  and  an  occa 
sional  letter  on  each  side  had  kept  up  the  friendly 
intercourse  between  the  divided  parts  of  the  family. 
Just  who  Schwarz  was,  whom  his  sister  Margaret  had 
married,  he  did  not  know.  When  he  remembered  his 
father's  little  house  and  shop,  some  ten  miles  from 
Altona,  distance  lent  enchantment  to  the  view,  and  it 
did  not  occur  to  him  to  measure  their  economies  and 
simplicity  squarely  and  distinctly  against  the  comforts 
of  his  present  life.  Meanwhile,  as  the  thirty  ^years 
crept  b}^,  the  comforts  of  the  Baum  establishment  in 
Germany  grew  less  and  less.  When  at  last  Margaret 
did  marry  this  Mr.  Schwarz,  who  was  half  book-dealer 
and  half  music-master  of  a  neighboring  town,  she  knew 
that  she  went  to  life  rather  less  eas}r  than  her  father's  ; 
but  she  lo\etl  her  husband,  and  she  did  not  care.  On 
Kaiifmaim's  side,  in  New  York,  there  had  been  no  great 
sense  of  enlarging  grandeur;  on  Margaret's  side,  in 
Germany,  there  had  been  no  distinct  sense  of  decay. 
Wlicn  she  found  herself  living  in  four  rooms,  in  a 
narrow  street  in  Boston,  she  did  not  think  herself  in 
luird  or  narrow  circumstances  ;  and  when  Kaui'niunn 
Baum  drove  up  to  his  pretty  house  in  Orange,  from  the 
station,  and  stopped  to  enjoy  the  opening  of  the  rhodo 
dendrons  in  his  avenue,  he  did  not  often  reflect  that  he 
was  not  used  to  avenues  or  rhododendrons  in  his  bo}'- 
liood.  lint  when  in  his  own  counting-room  lie  saw  her, 
with  her  characteristic  best  dress,  looking  just  as  his 
own  mother  looked  when  he  went  to  the  village  church 
with  her  in  Lauenburg,  he  was  partly  amazed  and  partly 


AUNT  MAEY.  33 

amused.  He  was  amazed  that  he  himself  brad  not  been 
conscious  that  she  was  not  changed  as  much  as  he.  He 
was  amused  to  see  how  in  the  complete  change  of  his 
condition  hers  was  still  precisely  the  same.  When  he 
turned  from  the  kissing  his  sister  and  holding  her  at 
arms'  length,  to  make  sure  of  her  and  to  praise  her;  — 
when  he  turned  to  look  at  the  shy,  freckled,  silent  -Ber 
tha  who  stood  by, — theixjie  felt  indeed  that  he  was  bat 
nineteen  j-ears  old  again,  — that  this  was  his  own  sister 
Thekla,  whom  since  then  he  had  not  seen,  and  in  this 
world  would  never  see.  He  called  her  Thekla  once, 
twice,  three  times,  with  his  eyes  running  over.  From 
that  time  forth  he  seldom  called  her  anything  but 
Thekla ;  and  the  poor  slvy  child  was  sure  of  the  very 
fullest  and  sweetest  of  his  love. 

And  so,  after  eager  talking  and  wondering  in  the 
counting-room,  the  prosperous  brother  fitted  otf  sister, 
niece,  and  little  lame  nephew,  under  the  carefnl  escort 
of  a  spruce  clerk,  who  was  not  to  leave  them  till  he 
had  delivered  them  safely  at  the  home  in  Orange.  For 
Kaufmann  Baum  there  was,  of  course,  no  holiday  ;  no, 
not  if  fifty  sisters  and  a  hundred  nieces  had  come. 
Attentive  clerk  —  amused  to  find  himself  in  charge  of 
these  quaint  German  people  —  did  his  duty  well ;  his 
patent  leathers  and  other  elegancies  not  actually  refus 
ing  to  serve  him  in  such  commonplace  exigency.  And, 
a  little  after  noon,  the  emigrant  party  found  themselves 
safely  in  the  airy  hall  of  the  pretty  house  in  Orange ; 
so  that  Margaret  the  mother,  and  the  frightened  Bertha, 
and  poor  tired  little  AVil.  went  through  their  next  wel 
come.  Elegant  clerk  of  the  patent  leathers  bade  good- 
by,  and  returned  to  the  copying-book. 

Mrs.  Baum  was  probably  more  amused  than  her  hus 
band  by  the  apparition ;  nay,  I  am  afraid,  that,  when 
she  wrote  a  jubilant  letter  to  her  sister  about  it  the  next 
week,  she  owned  to  being  "  tickled."  She  had  never 
been  in  Germany.  A  spirited,  wide-awake  Yankee  girl, 
whom  Kauiinann  had  fallen  in  with  at  Brattleboro',  i 
believe,  —  energetic,  affectionate,  and  true,  she  had 
learned  in  fifty  ways  to  adapt  herself  to  his  German 
3 


34  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

habits,  knowing  that  in  five  hundred,  he  was  adapting 
himself  to  hers.  But  though  she  had  seen  maivy  Ger 
man  gentlemen,  and  a  few  German  ladies,  she  had 
never  till  now  seen  a  simple  Lauenburgcr  and  the  Lau- 
enburger's  children,  in  their  own  manner  as  the}T  lived. 
She  had  learned  to  talk  German  freely  enough,  with  a 
pretty  distinct  Vermont  accent.  It  was  enough  better 
German  than  Jasper's,  however.  And  it  needed  no 
correctness  of  genders  to  make  dear  little  Wilhelm  com 
fortable,  nor  anything  after  the  first  hand-grip  and 
hearty  kiss,  and  the  sight  of  her  brimming  C}'es,  to 
make  all  the  wanderers  feel  sure  that  in  the  palace 
around  them  they  were  to  be  perfect!}'  welcome,  and  at 
ease. 

Palace  it  seemed  to  them.  What  it  was,  —  was  sim 
ply  that  perfection  of  comfort,  and  shall  one  not  say 
beauty,  —  the  generous  wooden  house,  with  a  hall  run 
ning-  through  the  middle  ;  square  rooms  in  each  corner, 
large  and  high,  with  additional  rooms  gained  behind  by 
a  wing  thrown  out  there  ;  the  house  in  which  hundreds 
of  thousands  of  people  live,  —  one  day  we  will  say 
millions,  —  in  the  villages  round  our  cities;  in  which, 
if  there  be  a  little  breathing  space  reserved,  a  little 
garden  for  beauty  and  fragrance,  the  highest  possibility 
of  human  happiness  yet,  so  far  as  externals  of  comfort 
and  pleasure  go,  may  be  said  to  have  been  gained. 
Mary  took  Margaret  and  the  lame  boy  to  the  regular 
"  spare  chamber"  of  her  pretty  house,  where  she  had 
arranged  a  little  cot  for.  him,  and  then  led  Bertha  to 
what  she  told  her  had  been  called  "Bertha's  room" 
ever  since  in  the  winter  they  heard  that  her  lather  and 
his  family  were  coining  over.  How  nice  that  was,  that 
the  room  really  had  her  name!  Poor  little  Bertha  was 
;  Hy  frightened  after  all;  and  when  she  fairly 
saw  how  pretty  the  little  room  was,  —  and  when  big 
Patrick  fairly  brought  in  her  travel-worn  trunk  and  un 
strapped  it  for  her,  —  and  she  really  felt  that  she.  was 
iiiUtrc^s  here,  the  deal1  child  fairly  thing  herself  into 
Aunt  Mary's  arms.  1  need  not  describe  the  room.  It 
was  pretty  enough :  you  have  just  such  a  room  in  your 


AUNT  MAEY.  35 

house  when  }'ou  try  to  make  it  look  nice.  It  was  not 
the  room  which  upset  Bertha.  It  was  that  they  had 
named  it  "Bertha's  room,"  and  that  with  her  Amer 
ican  cousins  she  was  not  to  be  a  bit  homesick,  but  was 
from  the  first  at  home. 

From  that  moment  there  was  no  danger  for  our  poor, 
slry,  freckled,  heavy-shoed  Bertha.  In  the  first  place, 
she  was  not  always  heavy-shoed.  When  she  had  put 
off  her  travel-dress,  and  came  down  for  dinner,  she  was 
in  exquisite  German  neatness  of  toilette,  —  as  different, 
3'es,  from  Aunt  Mary  in  costume,  as  if  she  had  come 
from  the  planet  Hebe  ;  but  in  dress  as  pretty  in  its  way 
as  if  she  had  been  a  prima  donna  assoluta  in  a  German 
opera  company,  and  were  going  to  sing  the  music  of 
"  Leonora."  Aunt  Mary  would  have  been  loyal  and 
true,  —  treue  und  feste,  —  had  she  come  down  in  hob 
nail  shoes  and  the  cap  of  Cinderella's  godmother.  But 
Bertha  had  no  occasion  to ;  she  was  at  ease  with  her 
aunt,  and  her  aunt  was  delighted  with  her.  Little  Wil. 
had  dropped  to  sleep,  and  it  was  clear  the  bandages 
had  not  been  displaced  ;  and  so  eveiybody  was  thank 
ful,  and  satisfied  with  the  day.  At  5.30  the  sound  of 
wheels  on  the  gravel  called  everybody  to  the  door,  — 
Bertha's  little  cousins,  whose  older  brothers  and  sisters 
were  at  college  and  school,  Aunt  Mary,  Mrs.  Schwarz, 
Bertha,  and  all,  —  and  in  a  minute  there  was  another 
genuine  welcome  as  Kaufmann  Baum,  fresh  and  cheery 
after  the  shipping  of  ten  million  or  more  baskets  to 
fourteen  hundred  thousand  consignees  or  less,  found 
himself  at  home. 

Friday  evening,  the  custom  was,  that  such  of  the 
neighbors  as  chose,  came  in  to  the  Baums'  house  for  a 
little  amateur  music  ;  and  to  Bertha^s  terror,  not  to  say 
Margaret's,  this  custom  was  announced  after  their  cof 
fee  had  been  served.  Bertha  was,  indeed,  too  much 
frightened  to  dare  to  ask  to  go  up  into  her  own  room,  as 
she  would  have  been  glad  to  do,  though  she  would  have 
liked  the  music.  All  she  could  do  was  to  shelter  her 
self  behind  Aunt  Mary  or  at  her  side,  as  well  as  she 
could,  and  to  be  thankful,  so  thankful,  that  everybody 


36  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

knew  she  could  speak  no  English.  As  if  anybod}r 
would  have  questioned  the  poor  child  if  she  had.  By 
and  by  she  came  to  be  more  at  ease.  Her  uncle's  grand 
piano  was  the  finest  she  had  ever  seen;  her  uncle's 
violin,  though  by  no  means  what  her  father's  was  in  his 
hands,  was  the  instrument  of  a  man  who  felt  music  in 
his  heart,  and  attempted  nothing  he  could  not  do.  Two 
or  three  of  the  ladies  who  came  in,  and  one  of  the  gen 
tlemen,  sang  well  together.  But  Bertha's  real  delight 
came,  when  one  of  these  ladies  sat  down  to  the  piano, 
and  accompanied  her  uncle's  violin  in  a  duet  from  Mo 
zart,  of  which  the  theme  was  very  dear  to  her,  but 
which  she  had  never  heard  in  this  arrangement  before. 
She  fairly  came  out  from  her  little  nest,  and,  before  she 
knew  it,  was  thanking  her  uncle,  and,  with  e}'es  full  of 
tears,  trying  to  make  him  know  how  much  pleasure  he 
had  given  her.  Kaufmann  Baum  had  been  all  the  eve 
ning  watching  the  little  frightened  bird,  while  she 
thought  everybody  had  forgotten  her.  He  knew  per 
fectly  well  that  she  inherited  his  mother's  passion  for 
music,  and  her  own  father's  quickness  and  facility  in 
execution.  But  he  knew,  as  well,  that  she  was  ill  at 
ease  in  his  parlor,  and  that  she  must  not  be  startled. 
Curious  as  he  was,  therefore,  to  hear  her  play,  there 
had  been  no  word  spoken  to  her  of  playing.  And  now, 
in  answer  to  her  enthusiasm,  Kaufmann  only  nodded, 
and  with  his  bow  drew  from  the  violin  a  few  notes  of 
an  air  from  "  The  Apollo,"  which  is  one  of  Mozart's 
earlier  works,  least  remembered,  and  asked  her  if  she 
played  it.  He  had  caught  her  with  guile.  It  was  an 
old  home  favorite,  and  he  knew  it.  The  eager  girl, 
hardly  knowing  what  she  did,  turned  to  the  piano, 
struck  into  the  air  at  once  in  an  arrangement  which 
ama/ed  even  Kaufmann  Bnuin,  so  curiously  did  it  re 
call  even  the  orchestral  harmonies  of  the  piece,  as  Mo-' 
zart  himself  adapted  it  for  the  stage.  Bertha  was  per 
fectly  happy.  She  had  never  had  the  command  of  such 
an  instrument ;  but,  under  her  lather's  careful  training, 
she  was  wholly  at  ease  in  the  control  of  the  piano.  No 
lesser  word  describes  her  power  over  it.  And  now  that 


AUNT  MAETu  *  37 


it  did  what  she  wanted  it  to  do  as  ifclwne.ver  done  be-    ' 

fore,  now  that  it  returned  the  m 

of  her  dear  Mozart  in  a  fashion  not 

conception,  Bertha  was  conscious  of  a  new  element  in 

her  life.     With  absolute  unconsciousness  she  finished 

the  air,  and  then  was  beside  herself  with  terror  to  find 

what  she  had  done. 

But  they  soothed  her.  They  did  not.  praise  her  too 
much  for  her  comfort.  They  simpty  made  her  under 
stand  that  she  could  play  accompaniments  for  them  a 
good  deal  better  than  they  could  play  them  for  them 
selves.  In  a  word,  they  made  the  dear  child  feel  that 
she  was  of  use,  and  so  they  made  her  comfortable. 
And  when  her  comfort  was  thus  once  secured,  why,  her 
place  at  the  piano  was  fixed  for  almost  all  the  evening. 
Child  though  she  was,  she  had  brought  into  Kaufmann 
Baum's  Friday  soiree  the  element  of  genius  ;  and  they 
all  knew  perfectly  well,  that,  excepting  as  genius  can 
be  copied  by  talent,  this  element  had  never  been  there 
before. 


33  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 


CHAPTER     VI. 

JASPER   RISING   TO    ASAPH   FERGUSON. 

DUQCESNE,  MICHIGAN,  July  26. 

"pvEAR  OLD  BOY,— Here  I  am  at  last.  I  have 
*— ^  been  here  twentj'-four  hours  and  more.  I  answer 
your  first  question  first,  and  tell  you  that  everything  is 
as  bad  as  it  can  be. 

My  poor  aunt  was  in  bed  when  the  fire  broke  out ; 
had  been  for  weeks,  as  I  told  you.  She  struggled  up, 
of  course,  when  they  brought  him  in  ;  but  he  spoke  no 
word,  —  if  indeed  he  were  alive.  If  anything  could 
have  broken  her  more,  it  was  of  course  that.  She 
almost  killed  herself  by  the  efforts  she  made  that  night, 
and  in  the  days  between  till  the  funeral,  and  since  the 
funeral  till  I  came,  has  not  left  her  bed  again. 

But  I  am  before  my  stor}'.  You  see  I  have  taken 
one  of  our  large  Western  sheets,  that  I  ma}'  tell  you 
the  whole  of  it,  to  do  my  best  to  give  you  the  full 
worth  of  your  quarter. 

1  had  a  tough  day  the  day  I  left  3'ou,  —  }~ou  remem 
ber  how  muggy  and  hot  it  was,  —  till  I  was  fairly  on 
the  train.  Then  I  had  quite  an  adventure,  which  will 
make  you  huigh  if  we  ever  see  each  other  again.  No 
matter  what  it  was  now  ;  but  that  in  my  pool-  way  I  did 
the  duty  in  New  York,  Friday  morning,  of  the  father 
of  an  interesting  family,  till  I  left  them  in  better  care 
than  mine.  For  j-n  hour  or  two  at  least,  I  forgot  this 
wretchedness;  and  that  does  not  happen  to  me  often. 
There  came  a  day  not  to  be  got  rid  of  so  easily.  You 
do  not  know  what  a  business-day  in  New  York  in  the 
end  of  .July  is,  and  I  hope  you  never  may.  But  after 
it,  there  was  the  boat  up  the  river  at  night,  —  and  such 


JASPEE  EISING  TO  ASAPII  FERGUSON.          39 

a  night !  if  you  remember  it, — which  made  some  com 
pensation.  Once  for  all,  let  me  relieve  you  by  saying 
that  I  have  not  any  night  carried  my  troubles  to  bed 
with  me. 

You  know  my  tastes  so  well,  that  you  know  I  would 
gladl}'  have  taken  the  packet-boat  on  the  canal  at  Al- 
baii}'.  Such  times  as  I  have  had  ever  since  I  can  re 
member  anything,  on  these  boats  and  the  Ohio  boats 
with  dear  Uncle  John !  But  now,  of  course,  time  is 
every  thing  to  me,  —  and,  to  my  relief,  I  found  wo  were 
just  early  enough  for  the  first  Schenectady  train.  That 
in  its  turn  arrives  just  in  time  for  the  passengers  to 
change  cars  at  Schenectady  for  Utica.  No !  If  a 
snake-head  had  come  through  the  bottom  of  that  car 
and  spitted  me  from  the  toe  of  my  foot  to  the  longest 
hair  in  my  scalp,  I  had  not  been  here.  You  may  tell 
Fergus,  therefore,  of  my  happy  escape.  You  know 
how  afraid  he  is  of  railway  riding.  Tell  him  that  I  do 
not  think,  among  all  my  fellow-passengers,  more  than 
seven  were  spitted  by  snake-heads,  and  that,  in  the 
week  of  my  travelling,  I  certainly  did  not  see  ten  col 
lisions,  all  told.  That  will  satisfy  his  taste  for  the 
horrible,  and  will  be  quite  safe  for  3^011  and  me.  You 
need  not  tell  him  that  my  e}*es  were  put  out  by  cinders, 
and  that  I  was  three  strata  deep  in  Mohawk  vallc}'  dirt 
when  the  day  ended.  I  satisfied  myself  at  Utica  that 
I  should  gain  nothing  by  lying  over  Sunday  at  SjTa- 
cuse ;  and  I  stopped  there,  therefore,  and  took  the  day 
at  our  dear  Trenton  Falls.  Ah  well !  It  is  as  lovely 
as  when  3*011  and  I  were  there.  People  talk  of  angiy 
waters.  This  water  is  not  angry.  It  is  calm,  delib 
erate,  dignified  forethought  that  sends  it  on.  It  was 
a  good  thing  to  do,  —  taking  the  Sundaj7  there.  And, 
Ferguson,  I  tell  3*011  that  I  believe  I  have  been  more  set 
on  nty  feet  b3'  something  a  man  named  Buckingham 
said  in  his  sermon  at  the  village,  and  by  lying  in  the 
drawing-room  in  the  evening,  while  Moore  the  hotel- 
keeper  was  playing  on  a  parlor  organ  he  has  there, 
thiin  by  any  that  has  happened  to  me  in  the  week  be 
side. 


40  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

The  next  morning,  as  day  broke,  we  were  off  for 
Utica,  two  of  us  in  a  buggy. 

"Few  streaks  announced  the  coming  day, 
How  slow,  alas,  he  came !  " 

Then  came  my  longest  pull,  —  a  very  hard  ride ;  but 
everything  has  its  end,  and  at  night  we  were  in  Buffalo. 
I  inquired  instantly  about  boats,  but  my  luck  had  left 
me.  The  u  Clinton  "  was  gone,  which  is  the  boat  I  like  ; 
and  I  had  to  put  up  with  the  "Indiana,"  which  I  do 
not  like.  However,  that  is  all  over  now.  At  Detroit  I 
spent  the  whole  of  one  day  and  part  of  the  next.  At 
all  these  places  the  misery  was,  that  I  was  meeting 
dear  Uncle  John's  friends,  and  everywhere  I  had  my 
sad  story  to  tell.  You  see,  dear  old  Hazlitt  sent  his 
letter  across  to  be  mailed  at  Kent,  struck  the  mail  here, 
and  it  was  the  only  news  from  here  which  had  got  out 
at  all.  Nobody  at  Detroit  had  a  suspicion  of  it,  and  I 
had  to  go  through  the  horror  of  telling  it  forty  times 
over. 

But  I  have  used  half  my  paper,  and  I  do  not  get  on. 
Generally  we  come  round  here  by  steam  from  Detroit ; 
but  I  could  not  wait  after  I  had  seen  and  talked  with 
the  Ellises,  and  tried  coming  across,  which  I  have  never 
done  before.  I  probably  chose  my  route  wrong,  as  it 
proved,  but  it  is  all  guess-work.  I  took  the  rail  to 
Dexter,  and  then  came  across  countiy,  over,  under, 
through  mud  and  corduroy  such  as  you  cannot  dream 
of.  Really  I  could  have  walked  as  fast  as  we  came  ; 
but,  after  forty-live  miles  of  such  walking  one  day,  I 
should  not  have  eared  to  take  forty-five  the  next.  Nor 
did  I  care  to  take  so  much  riding  in  the  "  mail,"  —  tlie 
mail  a  canvas-top  wjigoii  with  one  seat  behind  the  dri 
ver, —  changing  horses  when  it  listed.  Uut  1  had  to. 
And  then,  St.  Leirer,  when  the  ninety  miles  were  over, 
did  not  1  wish  lor  you?  I  struck  the  river  at  Petit  Pro, 
and  there  the  mail-carrier's  labors  ceased.  Our  mail,  in 
a  state  of  nature,  would  have  waited  there  for  eleven 
days.  It  did  not  have  to  wait  so  long  this  time.  I  saw 


JASPER  RISING  TO  ASAPII  FERGUSON.          41 

my  old  friend  Dundas  at  once,  the  first  man  I  had  seen 
who  knew  anything  of  what  had  passed  here.  You  can 
guess  if  I  pumped  him  for  news.  I  borrowed  his  canoe, 
and  floated  and  paddled  down  the  long  lovely  reaches 
which  make  the  twenty  miles  from  Petit  Pro  here.  I 
have  done  it  a  hundred  times,  taking  or  bringing  the 
mail,  but  it  never  seemed  so  beautiful.  How  I  wished 
I  had  you  or  Horace  in  the  boat !  I  think  it  would  have 
knocked  you.  The  sun  went  down  when  I  had  been  on 
the  water  an  hour.  Then  such  a  sunset,  moonrise,  and 
starlight !  and  the  water  and  the  woods  so  still !  It  was 
eleven  o'clock  Saturday  night  when  I  got  in.  I  was. 
only  nine  whole  days  from  Boston,  including  my  neces 
sary  stops  at  New  York  and  Detroit.  My  uncle  never 
did  it  in  so  short  time.  It  shows  what  a  science  trav 
elling  is  reduced  to. 

Now  you  want  to  know  what  I  find  and  how  I  feel. 
Dear  St.  Leger,  I  find  nothing  ;  and  I  do  not  know  how 
I  feel.  As  I  tell  you,  my  poor  aunt  is  wholly  pros 
trated.  All  the  people  in  the  house  are  well-nigh  panic- 
struck.  They  have  had  nearly  three  weeks  of  uncer 
tainty  and  depression  since  the  fire  ;  and  though  Hazlitt 
and  John  Water  have  done  their  best  in  putting  a  good 
front  on  things,  and  have  kept  the  different  hands  here 
at  work  in  trying  to  reduce  the  wreck  to  some  order, 
there  is,  after  all,  but  little  front  to  put ;  and  the  wreck 
is  of  no  great  account  to  one  who  has  known  the  place 
in  its  growing  activity.  There  was  absolutely  nothing 
here  but  my  uncle's  wharves,  —  which  are  gone;  his 
warehouse,  which  is  gone ;  his  own  house,  and  a  few 
frame-houses  and  log-cabins  that  the  work-people  lived 
in.  These  last  are  still  standing,  but  poor  Andrew  did 
not  save  his  "  north  warf."  Everything  that  would 
burn,  burned  to  the  water's  edge.  When  I  reflect  that 
at  eight  and  twenty  my  uncle  came  here  and  struck  the 
first  tree  which  white  man  struck  here,  with  his  own 
axe,  —  that  he  saw  all  that  was  here  grow  up  under  his  " 
own  eye,  —  I  ask  myself  why,  at  one  and  twenty, 'I  hes 
itate  about  starting  on  this  ruin  to  rebuild  what  my  own 
eyes  have  seen  here.  But  to  this  the  answer  is,  first, 


42  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

that  the  wilderness  was  his,  and  the  ruin  is  not  mine  ; 
second,  that  my  first  duty  is  to  care  for  my  aunt,  for 
whom  it  is  veiy  difficult  to  care  in  such  a  corner  of  the 
world ;  third,  that  at  twent}T-one,  with  the  u  best  edu 
cation,  etc.,"  I  am  not  what  he  was  at  eight  and 
twenty.  That  is  a  hard  confession  to  make,  but  I  have 
to  make  it.  At  Detroit  I  spent  the  day  with  his  coun 
sel,  talking  about  administration  on  his  estate,  and  all 
that.  I  went  so  far  as  to  ask  wrhether  the  people  inter 
ested  would  possibty  appoint  me  administrator,  or  ask 
for  my  appointment.  But  it  was  quite  clear  that  Mr. 
Ellis  thought  that  a  Harvard  graduate  was  not  the  man 
to  know  about  these  lumber-men  and  logging  rights ; 
he  was  civil  enough,  but  I  saw  that  I  must  drop  that 
dream,  for  which  I  am  sony,  for  I  know  that  nobody 
really  understands  Uncle  John's  plans  as  I  do.  I  have 
not  the  slightest  fear  that  the  estate  will  not  pay  every 
demand.  He  was  too  far-sighted  and  too  honest  to  die 
a  bankrupt.  I  hope  my  aunt  may  have  something. 
At  all  events,  whatever  I  have,  she  has.  And  with  this 
I  must  close,  well  aware  that  I  have  told  }~ou  nothing. 
Tell  the  fellows  they  must  all  write  ;  and  do  not  think 
I  am  down-hearted.  Always  yours, 

J.  K 


BEGIN  AGAIN.  43 


CHAPTEE    VII. 

BEGIN   AGAIN. 

TS  there  anything  quite  so  depressing  to  look  upon  as 
-  what  the  smart  "man  of  business"  calls  the  "wind 
ing  up  of  a  concern  "  ?  Imagine  Mr.  Dennis  Maccart}', 
who  moves  families  into  the  country  at  the  shortest 
notice,  or  removes  sea-shore  visitors  to  the  city  in  the 
fall,  —  imagine  him  turned  into  Raffaele  D'Urbino's 
studio  the  day  after  his  death,  with  directions  to  clear 
the  rooms,  and  get  them  ready  by  to-morrow  morning 
to  move  in  the  furniture  and  fixtures  of  Dr.  T.  U.  Villa- 
lobo,  first  dentist  in  ordinary  to  His  Holiness  Leo  the 
Tenth,  and  told  to  carry  what  he  finds  in  the  studio  to 
the  public  stores.  Imagine  Dennis,  as  he  squeezes  into 
a  flour-barrel  a  lovely  Madonna,  smiling  with  a  divine 
affection,  even  when  man  looks  his  last  upon  her  face, 
—  crowding  after  her  three  or  four  studies  for  cupids, — 
the  first  conception  of  a  fresco,  —  and  the  keepsake 
best  beloved  which  Michel  Angelo  left  when  he  was  last 
here.  All  these  are  jammed  together  into  the  "  rub- 
bage-barrel,"  because  they  happen  to  have  no  frames 
on  them  at  the  moment  when  Dennis  sets  his  eyes  on 
them.  Such  is  the  method  by  which  the  "  smart  man 
of  business  "  winds  up  a  concern  which  is  intrusted  to 
him,  —  if  by  chance  he  have  been  trained  to  the  twist 
ing  of  hemp,  and  the  business  in  question,  like  John 
Hughitt's,  were  the  cutting  and  shipping  of  lumber. 
'•  We  must  get  the  accounts  closed,  anyway,"  says  the 
smart  man  of  business. 

Jasper  had  the  agony  of  seeing  an  administrator 
smash  rouixd,  in  such  fashion,  in  the  midst  of  his  un 
cle's  broken  affairs  ;  had  the  poor  satisfaction  of  inter- 


44  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

fering  once  or  twice  for  the  rescue  of  some  correspond 
ent  who  would  else  have  been  compromised  in  the  ruin 
wrought  by  the  smart  man  of  business ;  had  some 
moments  of  success  when  the  smart  man  of  business 
withdrew  for  a  few  weeks  from  Duquesne  to  demoralize 
and  disorder  something  else  wrhich  he  was  administering 
on :  but  after  six  or  eight  months  the  man  of  business 
had  made  a  solitude  of  the  thriving  village  which  was, 
and  called  it  peace.  Jasper  at  the  last  took  poor  Mrs. 
Hughitt  by  the  easiest  stages  down  to  Dexter,  found  for 
her  as  comfortable  a  home  as  he  could  contrive  with  an 
old  school-friend  of  hers,  and  for  himself  repaired  to 
Detroit  to  seek  his  fortune.  As  for  Duquesne,  which 
John  Hughitt  had  built  up  out  of  nothing,  it  all  went  to 
ruin  again,  thanks  to  the  smart  man  of  business ;  you 
will  find  no  such  place  in  the  present  county  registers 
of  Michigan ;  and  if  you  are  tempted  to  paddle  your 
canoe  down  there,  you  may  pick  blackberries  on  what 
was  the  causeway  to  the  wharf,  should  you  be  in  sea 
son. 

And  so  in  the  spring-time  after  his  brilliant  com 
mencement,  Jasper  found  himself  in  the  bustling  city 
of  Detroit,  —  with  a  little  more  than  seventeen  dollars 
in  his  pocket,  seeking  his  fortune.  He  was  not  in  the 
least  downcast.  Rather  was  he  elated,  because  he  had 
at  last  cut  loose  from  the  entanglements,  and  had  some 
reason  to  hope  that  he  might  never  see  the  smart  man 
of  business  again.  What  he  was  to  do,  he  did  not 
know.  But  he  knew  he  should  lincl  himself  at  some 
honest  work  before  he  had  spent  all  his  money.  He 
must  indeed.  His  aunt's  little  properly,  left  alter  the 
adjustment  of  affairs,  was  not  enough  even  to  pay  her 
modest  charges  at  Dexter.  And  Jasper  had  therefore 
the  thought  of  her  as  well  as  himself,  as  he  looked  out 
on  his  future. 

Detroit  was  at  that  moment  the  most  active  city  of 
the  North-west.  Chicago  was  just  starting  into  being  ; 
and  Detroit  was  the  invat,  depot  of  the  trade  of  that, 
new  region,  which  was  beaming  to  be  one  of  the  gar 
dens  and  one  of  the  granaries  of  the  world.  Jasper  had 


BEGIN  AGAIN.  45 

passed  through  the  city,  back  and  forth,  once  and  again. 
Till  now  he  had  never  made  as  long  a  stay  as  on  the 
sad  day  when  he  had  to  tell  every  one  the  news  of  dis 
aster.  Still  he  had  no  lack  of  personal  acquaintance 
among  the  la^vyers  and  the  men  of  business  of  the  town  ; 
and,  on  his  first  morning,  confident  enough  of  success, 
only  curious  as  to  what  form  it  was  to  take,  he  set  him 
self  to  visiting  in  succession  the  men  with  whom  his  un 
cle  had  had  most  to  do. 

i 'No?  Yes:  ah,  well!  There  can  be  no  sort  of 
difficult}7'."  This  was  the  average  speech  that  these 
gentlemen  made  to  him,  when  they  were  twice  his  age. 
u  No  difficult}'  at  all.  Young  men  is  what  we  want, 
Mr.  Rising.  The  West  is  to  be  built  up  by  young 
men ;  and  yx>ung  men  of  education  like  yourself,  why, 
of  course  they  have  the  best  chance !  If  I  had  only 
had  your  education  when  I  wras  of  your  age.  Wiry,  — 
if  you  had  written  to  me  last  fall,  I  would  have  asked 
you  to  take  a  desk  in  our  office  here  ;  just  now  we  are 
rather  overcrowded.  Business  you  know,  —  well ;  per 
haps  a  little  dull.  But  then,  you  will  have  no  diffi 
culty.  Have  you  had  any  talk  with  the  mayor  ?  " 

No  :  Jasper  had  had  no  talk  with  the  mayor. 

"Well,  now,  that  is  a  good  thought.  Suppose  I 
give  you  a  line  of  introduction  to  The  mayor.  He 
knows  every  thing  about  the  public  works,  jou  know, 
—  and  the}r  need  men,  you  know,  —  honest  and  intelli 
gent  men,  in  every  line.  He  is  a  very  good  friend  of 
mine,  and  I  am  very  glad  to  introduce  you"  (  "writing 
witli  assiduity"  would  be  the  stage-direction).  "A 
very  good  friend  of  mine,  —  a  very  good  friend  of  mine. 
You  know  where  the  City  Hall  is  ?  Yes  ;  three  blocks 
up,  —  ten  blocks  west ;  Mr,  Smith,  what  is  the  mayor's 
given  name?  Oh,  yes  !  I  thought  it  was  John.  There, 
Mr.  Rising,  there  is  }-our  note  to  the  mayor.  I  would 
go  with  you  nryself,  but  here  is  Mr.  Umbein  waiting 
for  me.  Good-morning.  Come  in  again." 

That  is  about  an  average  of  one  class  of  such  inter 
views.  This  is  the  other  form. 

MAYOR,  sitting  behind  a  desk,  which  serves  in  some 


46  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

sort  as  a  rampart  or  barricade.  In  front,  on  settees 
which  seem  a  good  deal  worn,  two  emigrant  women 
keeping  their  children  quiet  with  difficulty  ;  a  very  sus 
picious,  shiny-hatted  gentleman  of  Bohemian  birth  and 
features  ;  a  little  woman  with  a  black  veil  down,  and  a 
large  black  bag  in  her  hand ;  two  business  men  with 
lithographic  plans  and  other  papers.  Standing  between 
settee  and  barricade,  two  constables,  waiting  to  get  in 
a  word.  MAYOR  looks  jaded,  not  to  sa}r  perplexed, 
receives  Jasper's  card  and  note  with  a  bow,  and  points 
to  a  vacant  place  on  one  of  the  settees.  He  also  writes 
with  insane  alacrity,  folds  and  directs  his  letter  (en 
velopes  still  unknown),  beckons  the  constables,  and 
whispers  to  them  in  an  aside,  dismisses  them,  and  then 
takes  up  the  settees  in  order.  Different  smart  men  of 
business,  travellers  with  letters,  steamboat  clerks  and 
others,  come  up  and  interrupt.  But  the  mayor  is  steel, 
and  holds  to  "  first  come  first  served."  So  in  an  hour 
it  is  Jasper's  turn. 

"Yes,  Mr.  King,  I  am  glad  to  see  3^011, —  I  am  very 
glad  to  see  you,  only  we  are  so  hurried  this  morning ; 
indeed,  we  arc  always  hurried.  Mr.  Hughitt's  nephew, 
I  see.  Yes  ;  I  met  him  at  the  convention,  in  —  no ; 
yes, —  a  year  ago  last  fall.  I  heard,  —  yes,  —  no;  I 
did  hear  of  his  death.  I  was  veiy  much  distressed. 
Mr.  Fordhammcr  says  you  are  looking  for  employment. 
I  wish  I  could  give  you  any  encouragement ;  not  that 
we  ever  have  anything  to  oiler,  but  temporarily  per 
haps,  while  3*011  arc  looking  round." 

Jasper  takes  heart,  and  assures  the  poor  mayor  that 
some  temporary  position,  while  he  is  looking  round,  is 
all  he  needs,  or  would  think  of. 

••  Ye-s,  well:  but  3*011  cannot  conceive,  Mr.  Ring,  of 
the  nuinluT  of  people  I  have  here.  You  see  Detroit  is 
the  great  thoroughfare, —  or  on  the  great  thoroughfare  ; 
our  geographical  position  3*011  know,  —  and  everyone 
who  lands  here  comes  to  this  cilice."  At  this  moment, 
by  way  of  illustration,  an  enraged  Norwegian  with  two 
.  three  children,  a  wife,  and  a  irnn,  comes  in,  and  is 
with  diiliculty  made  to  subside  upon  the  only  vacant 


BEGIN  AGAIN.  47 

settee.  "  There  is  really  nothing,  Mr.  Ring,  that  is  in 
the  least  in  my  gift.  But  I  will  most  gladly  make  a 
minute  of  }'our  name,  and  you  would  tell  me  where  I 
might  write  to  you."  And  then,  with  a  guilty  and 
uneasy  look,  the  mayor  draws  out  an  immense  address- 
book,  turns  up  page  R,  by  the  alphabet  annexed,  and 
Jasper  has  the  pleasure  of  seeing  his  name  entered  at 
the  bottom  of  the  second  column  of  office-seekers  whose 
names  begin  with  that  letter.  As  the  mayor  copies  his 
card,  he  observes  that  the  name  has  two  syllables. 
"  Oh,  Rising  is  the  name  !  indeed,  I  beg  your  pardon, 
Mr.  Rising  ;  Mr.  Fordhammer  wrote  so  hastily  !  I  am 
afraid  I  called  }Tou  Ring.  Good-morning,  Mr.  Ring ; 
good-morning.  If  anything  occurs  you  shall  hear  from 
us.  Now,  sir,"  —  to  the  shhry -hatted  Bohemian, — 
"  what  can  I  do  for  you?  " 

These  two  interviews,  taking  a  good  deal  more  time 
in  fact  than  they  take  either  to  describe  or  to  read  of, 
may  be  taken  as  exhibiting  the  type  of  a  series  of  visits 
which  Jasper  made  on  his  two  first  days  in  Detroit, 
Tuesday  and  Wednesday.  The  plucky,  prompt  "  No  !  " 
came  in  sometimes,  and  was  an  exquisite  relief  when  it 
did  come.  Jasper  sa}*s  he  has  always  remembered  with 
thankfulness  the  men  who  gave  it  to  him,  from  that 
day  to  this.  But  more  often,  despite  himself,  he  was 
bejnggled  and  pushed  along  by  ill-timed  good-nature ; 
sent  from  pillar  to  post,  and  from  post  to  pillar,  follow 
ing  a  will-o'-wisp,  which,  however,  always  showed  dif 
ferent  colors  from  those  of  the  last  jack-o'-lantern,  and 
led  to  some  marsh  of  a  different-colored  mud  from  that 
which  he  grovelled  in  before. 

Jasper  went  home  Wednesday  night,  meditative  as 
to  the  "best  education  his  countr}r  could  afford." 
That  it  had  done  him  good  he  knew.  But  how  droll  it 
seemed  that  nobody  in  the  North-west  seemed  to  want 
him  any  the  more  because  he  had  such  training  !  No  : 
he  would  not  offer  himself  as  a  teacher  !  That  seemed 
rational,  and  enough  people  had  proposed  that  to  him. 
But,  first  of  all,  Jasper  utterly  distrusted  his  ability  in 
that  line ;  second,  he  could  see  that  the  newspapers, 


48  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

and  streets  even,  of  Detroit,  were  crowded  with  the  an 
nouncements  of  professors,  who  seemed  to  have  little  to 
do  but  to  profess.  Jasper  could  not  Relieve,  yet,  that 
his  university  training  gave  him  no  advantage  over  the 
Norwegian  emigrants,  who  had  hard  muscle,  a  poor 
gun,  and  could  live  on  black  bread.  "  Comes  to  that," 
said  Jasper  to  himself,  "  I  can  have  them  or  do  that." 
He  could  not  believe  that  he  must  go  out  and  take  up  a 
quarter-section  of  land.  But,  worst  come  to  worst, 
that  is,  thank  God,  what  every  man  or  woman  in 
America  can  do.  Before  he  tried  that,  however,  Jas 
per  meant  to  test  Detroit  by  some  other  channel  than 
that  which  his  uncle's  acquaintances  opened  to  him. 

On  Wednesday  evening,  —  conscious  that  he  had 
paid  two  da}'s  of  life,  and  certain  dollars  to  match ; 
and  had  only  a  little  experience  in  return,  —  he  paid 
his  bill  at  the  hotel,  took  his  valise  to  an  emigrant 
boarding-house,  sent  a  wagon  for  his  trunks,  and  went 
to  bed,  resolved  to  start  on  life  the  next  morning  with 
out  further  application  to  his  friends. 

What  has  Jasper  Rising  to  recommend  him  as  a  man, 
pure  and  simple? 

So  the  next  daj7  found  him  at  the  various  steamboat 
wharves,  inquiring  whether  this  passenger-line,  or  that 
freight-boat,  needed  a  clerk.  And  much  shorter  meas 
ure  he  had  awarded  to  him  here  than  in  the  places  to 
which  he  had  carried  letters  of  introduction.  Nobody 
wanted  any  clerk ;  and  Jasper,  in  his  soul,  was  quite 
sure  that  he  liked  their  wa}'  of  saying  so  better  than 
lie  did  the  more  long-winded  way.  One  rather  talkative 
accomplice,  or  companion,  of  the  man  he  spoke  to  in 
one  ot'thc  Mackinaw  oilices,  roused  up  so  far  as  to  take 
a  general  paternal  interest  in  .Jasper,  and  ask  a  good 
many  questions  about  his  plans  and  accomplishments, 
ending  by  his  suggest  ing,  that,  at,  at  the  freight  iiiLi:- 
lion-e  of  Dibbs  &  Kortcs'-uc.  on  the  Windsor  side,  they 
had  wanted  an  invoice-clerk  the  last  time  he  was  there  ; 
they  had  asked  him  about  a  certain  Jem  Clavers,  who 
had  once  invoiced  in  the  Mackinaw  employ,  and  the 
unknown  knew  that  they  did  not  engage  Jem  Clavers. 


BEGIN  AGA1X.  49 

Had  Jasper  any  communication  with  them?  No: 
Jasper  had  not.  But  Jasper  was  perfectly  willing. 
The  only  arrangement  Divine  Providence  or  human 
Destiny  had  thus  far  suggested  was  this  ;  and  Jasper 
eagerly  took  the  address  of  Dibbs  &  Fortescue,  waited 
for  the  feny-boat,  and,  with  some  hopefulness  this  time, 
pursued  his  way  to  the  dominions  of  'Er  Majesty,  and 
without  much  difficulty  found  the  warehouse  which  an 
swered  to  the  name. 

The  manners,  not  to  say  the  language  and  the  cut  of 
the  whiskers,  were  different  from  those  of  the  western 
side  of  the  Strait.  But  the  result  was  the  same.  They 
wanted  no  invoice-clerk,  had  wanted  none,  should  want 
none.  Nay,  they  did  not  know  who  could  have  told 
Mr.  Rising  that  they  wanted  one.  Nor  could  Jasper 
indeed,  the  unknown  having  had  no  visiting  card  per 
haps,  certainly  having  given  him  none.  An  allusion  to 
Jem  Clavers,  however,  did  bring  to  light  the  recollection 
that  they  had  had  a  letter  for  Jem  Clavers's  mother, 
and  they  had  asked  where  he  was  to  be  found.  Prob 
ably  it  was  from  this  circumstance  that  the  unknown 
had  made  his  mistake  about  the  invoice-clerk.  And 
so  they  wished  Jasper  a  very  good  evening ;  for  the 
day  had  now  well  passed  the  meridian. 

"  In  pure  delights  like  these," 

Jasper  spent  the  two  first  days  of  his  life  at  the  emi 
grant  lodging-house ;  and  on  Friday  night  found  him 
self  no  nearer  the  object  of  his  quest  than  on  what  his 
friends  at  Windsor  call  "  the  Tuesday  morning." 

Nor  was  he  nearer,  to  all  appearance,  on  Saturday 
noon.  Silently  he  ate  his  dinner,  not  of  the  most 
savory  description,  among  the  Norwegians,  Germans, 
and  Frenchmen  who  had  been  for  these  .days  his  boon 
companions  at  the  three  revels  of  the  day.  Puzzled 
more  than  sad,  puzzled  because  he  could  not  get  hold 
of  time's  forelock;  certain  that  he  was  making  some 
mistake,  and  not  j*et  chiding  the  selfishness  of  the 
world,  which  would  not  let  him  "  go  shares  "  with  it, 
4 


50  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

he  left  the  tgtble,  and  stood  on  the  stoop  to  see  the 
laboring  men  with  whom  he  had  feasted  drift  off,  to  the 
right  and  left,  to  their  affairs. 

"  It  is  not  that  that  man  is  stronger  than  I,"  said 
Jasper  to  himself,  as  a  clumsy  Wurtemburg  lout  went 
lumbering  down  the  street,  hardly  knowing  enough  to 
keep  on  the  sidewalk.  "  I  could  pull  him  round  and 
round  in  any  boat  on  the  river,  and  walk  him  to  death 
in  the  woods  or  on  the  prairie.  And  yet,  if  I  went 
down  with  him  now,  and  offered  my  service  to  the  man 
on  the  pier  where  he  has  earned  his  two  dollars  a  day 
since  last  Monday,  I  should  be  told  there  wras  nothing 
for  me  to  do.  Is  there  a  disadvantage  in  speaking 
English? 

u  There  goes  that  hulking  Irishman  from  his  shanty, 
boys  folio v.  ing  as  }~esterday  ;  that  man  has  found  some 
body  who  wants  him.  Yet  he  is  no  bigger  than  I  am. 
lie  is  not  half  so  good-natured.  And,  if  we  got  into  a 
fight,  I  could  knock  him  down  before  he  knew  wre  had 
begun."  And  Jasper  chuckled,  even  in  his  desolation, 
at  the  satisfaction  with  which  he  should  give  the  Kelt 
No.  6  if  it  were  all  in  friendly  play. 

"  A  hole  for  every  peg  except  me,"  said  the  poor 
boy.  "  A  hole  for  a  Norwegian  runaway  ;  a  hole  for  a 
German  boor  ;  a  hole  for  an  Irish  bog-trotter  :  only  no 
hole  for  this  poor  gentleman," 

"Poor  gentleman,"  he  said  again,  cutting  off  the  end 
of  his  last  cigar  and  taking  out  his  match-box,  a  little 
gold-mounted  toy  which  Alice  Cohoes  had  given  him 
for  a  philopoma.  "A  poor  gentleman,"  he  repeated 
aloud,  u  who  still  smokes  Manuel  Amore's  cigars,  and 
then  wonders  why  he  is  not  hired  as  a  long-shore 
man." 

And  with  this  ho  went  up  to  his  den  under  the  roof; 
put  up  a  little  parcel  for  his  aunt,  of  some  trifles  which  he 
bad  promised  to  buy  for  her  in  Detroit.  When  he  came 
down  stairs,  he  was  another  man.  The  new  epoch  of 
his  life  really  began,  when,  in  place  of  the  French  boots 
in-  li:nl  been  wearing,  he  put  on  a  pair  of  brogans,  re 
served  from  his  last  trout-brook ;  wrhen  in  place  of  his 


BEGIN  AGAIN.  51 


linen  shirt,  he  put  on  one  of  gray  flannel 
beaver  hat  he  had  touched  only  that 
he  met  Mr.  Fordhammer,  he  put  on  a  S 
and  instead  of  Huntington's  tight-fitting  frock,  for  such 
were  cut  and  worn  in  those  days,  he  put  on  a  well-worn 
velveteen  coat,  left  from  a  hunting  expedition  in  Wis 
consin.  Jasper  had  not  walked  fifty  yards  with  his 
parcel  when  he  met  Miss  Mary  Chandler,  one  of  the  De 
troit  belles  at  that  time,  with  whom  he  waltzed  the  last 
winter  at  a  party  at  the  Shaws'.  He  was  on  the  point 
of  touching  his  hat ;  but  it  was  clear  that  the  pretty 
lady  no  more  recognized  him  than  she  did  the  awning- 
post,  though  she  passed  that  also  every  day. 

Jasper  went  to  the  station  of  what  has  since  become 
the  Central  Road,  and  gave  his  aunt's  parcel  to  the 
conductor.  He  stood  to  see  the  train  leave,  having, 
indeed,  no  call  elsewhere ;  and  was  then  slowly  leaving 
the  depot,  as  the  station  was  in  those  days  called,  when 
he  met  his  destiny. 

His  attention  was  arrested  by  a  sharp,  angry  call, 
"  Where  is  Mr.  Keyl?  Send  Mr.  Keyl  to  me." 

Mr.  Keyl  appeared.     He  was  the  "  depot-master." 

"Mr.  Keyl,  why  have  these  cars  not  been  cleaned 
to-day?  I  spoke  of  it  to  George  yesterday,  and  no 
one  has  touched  them.  Here's  prairie-mud  which 
might  have  come  from  Battle  Creek." 

Mr.  Keyl  was  in  no  wise  dashed  by  the  anger  of  his 
chief.  With  perfectly  imperturbable  expression,  he  in 
formed  that  officer  that  it  was  John's  business  to  clean 
the  car,  and  that  John  had  not  been  seen  all  day. 
"  Off  on  a  spree,  I  guess.  He  has  not  had  one  since 
Fast  Day." 

"  What  do  I  care  for  John?  "  said  the  superintendent, 
not  in  the  least  soothed  by  Mr.  Keyl's  indifference. 
"  Make  up  John's  pay,  and  ship  him  as  soon  as  you  set 
eyes  on  him ;  and  have  these  cars  fit  to  be  seen  before 
the  train  is  made  up."  So  storming,  he  went  on  his 
way. 

^  Where  in  hell  am  I  to  find  any  one  to  clean  his 


52  UPS  AND  D  0  WITS. 

cars  for  him?  "  said  Mr.  Keyl,  half  under  his  breath,  to 
a  baggage-master  who  stood  by.  But,  before  the  bag 
gage-master  answered,  Jasper  stepped  forward  and 
said,  "  Do  you  want  some  one  to- clean  the  cars? 
Try  me." 

Mr.  Keyl  squirted  a  little  tobacco-juice  between  the 
rails,  surveyed  Jasper  from  top  to  toe,  and  said, 
"  Have  you  ever  worked  for  the  road? " 

"No,"  said  Jasper  ;  "but  I  have  cleaned  carriages, 
plenty  of  them." 

"  Then  clean  them  cars  before  it's  dark  ;  and,  if  you 
like,  come  round  here  again  at  seven,  Monday  morn 
ing,  and  I'll  talk  with  you.  Jefferson,  show  him  John's 
closet,  and  where  the  things  arc,  and  tell  him  where 
he  must  fill  his  pails."  So  the  imperturbable  Mr.  Keyl, 
who  was  at  bottom  much  more  perturbable  than  he 
wanted  Mr.  Superintendent  to  know,  went  his  way 
with  an  extra  oath  or  two.  Jefferson  explained  to 
Jasper  the  mysteries  of  long  brushes  and  short 
brushes  ;  the  "  depot "  soon  sank  into  its  usual  quiet ; 
and  as  Jasper,  infinitely  amused  with  the  adventure, 
brought  to  light  the  hideous  arabesques  of  the  car- 
paint  from  beneath  the  charcoal  dust  and  mud  which 
a  smart  shower  had  plastered  on  them,  he  knew  indeed 
that  his  lowest  descent  was  over,  and  that  he  was  be 
ginning  to  rise  again. 

It  is  not  very  unpleasant  business  when  you  have 
good  tools,  and  do  it  for  the  first  time,  with  nobody  to 
watch  you.  And  by  sunset  the  three  cars  were  c!e;m, 
the  closet  was  locked,  and  the  favorite  of  Commence 
ment  <l;iy  went  home. 

The  fair  render  need  not  be  distressed  by  thinking 
th;it  Jasper  had  to  spend  thirteen  hours  out  of  every 
twenty-lour  in  washing  prairie-mud  off  the  sides  of 
cars.  IVrhaps  the  lair  reader  never  before  reflected 
that  anybody  had  to  do  this  disagreeable  duty,  —  per 
haps  she  believed  the  platform,  when  it  informed  her 
that  all  the  disagreeable  things  in  life  are  done  by 
n.  and  all  the  agreeable  ones  by  men.  In  point 
of  fact,  the  career  of  car-scrubbing  was  only  the  gate- 


BEGIN  AGAIN.  53 

way  by  which  Jasper  broke  into  the  magic  circle. 
From  this  time  he  was  in  the  game  with  the  others, — 
was  recognized  as  a  co-worker,  —  and  was  no  longer 
shoved  from  pillar  to  post,  as  he  had  been  when  he 
seemed  an  outsider.  No :  the  little  one-track  road, 
which  has  since  grown  into  the  Michigan  Central,  had 
not,  in  those  days,  cars  enough  to  employ  any  man  for 
his  whole  time  in  keeping  them  clean.  And  Jasper 
soon  found  that  his  new  vocation  had  at  least  all  the 
elements  of  interest  which  variety  can  give.  Now  it 
was  to  lend  a  hand  to  the  baggage-smashers,  in  hand 
ling  trunks  on  arrival.  Once  and  again  he  was  de 
tailed  to  be  an  extra-conductor  when  a  special  train 
was  sent  to  an  academy  examination  or  a  county  con 
vention.  He  was  the  person  who  collected  forgotten 
parasols  and  right-hand  gloves,  after  people  had  left 
the  trains,  and  kept  them  sorted  against  the  owners 
should  apply.  When  the  morose  ticket-master  had 
occasion  to  retire  occasionally  from  duty,  either  for 
repentance  that  he  had  been  so  cross  to  people  who 
had  never  injured  him,  or  for  other  religious  or  per 
sonal  duties  to  me  unknown,  he  liked  to  put  Jasper  on 
the  service  of  selling  at  the  window  in  his  stead.  At 
this  time,  the  morose  ticket-master  was  more  morose 
than  ever,  because,  in  an  access  of  prosperity,  the  com 
pany  had  enlarged  the  building,  and  given  him  a  more 
spacious  office.  The  only  view  he  took  of  this  im 
provement  was  that  it  cost  him  so  many  more  steps 
daily  in  crossing  from  the  gentlemen's  to  the  ladies' 
window.  Think  of  it,  gentle  reader,  and  you  may  un 
derstand  why  the  average  ticket-seller  is  low-toned  and 
morose ;  }~ou  may  reflect  that,  if  you  had  his  trials  in 
life,  you  would  not  be  gentle  ;  and  you  will  be  all  the 
more  disposed  to  give  credit  to  those  ticket-sellers  you 
and  I  could  name,  who,  in  face  of  such  temptations 
in  other  directions,  keep  cheerful  still,  —  look  up  and 
not  down,  look  out  and  not  in, — -and,  caged  though 
they  be  in  their  little  houses  of  glass,  throw  no  stones, 
but  lend  a  hand  to  thousands'  of  unprotected  females, 


54  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

such  as  you,  or  such  scatter-brained  impulsives  as  }^ 
male  companion  in  travel. 

For  Jasper  himself,  the  new  life  was  not  a  frolic 
merely,  as  you  may  have  thought  it,  but  an  experiment. 
As  the  heroine  of  the  old  novel  wanted  so  much  to  be 
loved  for  herself  alone,  Jasper  was  by  this  time  dead 
resolved  to  wrork  his  own  way  forward  in  the  world, 
I  without  troubling  its  ma}'ors,  its  college  authorities,  or 
its  Mr.  Fordhammers  more.  There  was,  undoubtedly, 
disagreeable  life  in  this  association  with  baggage- 
smashers,  and  in  the  physical  labor  it  involved.  But 
the  men  learned  to  respect  him  in  an  hour.  They 
learned  to  love  him  in  a  day.  Their  tobacco  was  poor  ; 
but  Jasper  could  get  used  to  that.  They  were  very 
simple  people  ;  he  had  never  imagined  that  any  people 
in  the  world  could  be  so  simple.  They  talked  but  lit 
tle  ;  and  what  they  did  talk  about  was  their  pay,  their 
food,  their  rent,  and  what  the  company  was  doing. 
Jasper  had  not  been  in  this  little  circle  a  week,  before 
his  habits  of  generalization,  the  ease  with  which  he 
took  the  wider  view  of  things,  the  absolute  good  tem 
per  which  grew  out  of  this,  and,  indeed,  his  general 
information  regarding  things  in  which  they  were  but 
specialists,  made  him  of  real  use  to  everybody  in  the 
station-house  ;  and  he  was  respected  accordingly.  His 
great  conquest  was  made  one  day  when  he  went  out  as 
fireman,  by  sudden  substitution  for  a  poor  fellow  who 
had  cut  his  hand.  Purdy,  the  engiucnian  with  whom 
he  went,  was  known  behind  his  back,  among  the  work 
men,  as  "  old  Meat-axe  "  ;  and  so  virulent  and  unintel 
ligible  was  the  heat  of  his  temper,  that  no  man  who 
could  get  an  exchange  ever  worked  with  him  a  week. 
But  Jasper,  who,  indeed,  knew  nothing  of  these  pecu- 
linrilies,  went  and  came,  went  and  came,  two  trips  out 
and  two  in,  —  and  conquered  "  old  Meat-axe."  He  did 
it  by  mere  force  of  intelligent  questioning  and  wise  ac 
knowledgment  of  ignorance.  Meat-axe  himself  was 
not  insensible  to  this  most  delicate  form  of  unconscious 
flattery. 

At  the  boarding-house,  where  he  still  staid  because 


BEGIN  AGAIN.  55 

he  would  not  be  rolling  from  spot  to  spot,  and  because 
it  was  dirt-cheap  if  it  had  some  dirt  in  its  other  attri 
butes  also,  Jasper  was  hardly  less  a  favorite.  But  this 
mattered  the  less.  He  was  at  the  head  of  the  table  in 
a  week ;  for  the  inmates  were  here  to-da}^,  and  gone 
to-morrow.  The  "  boarding.mistress  "  was  amazed  at 
Jasper's  ease  in  talking  French  and  German  with  the 
"  Europeans."  There  were,  however,  Swedes  and  Nor 
wegians,  not  to  say  Welch  and  occasional  Portingallers 
on  the  lake,  who  were  quite  beyond  him.  And  he 
found  some  home  amusement  in  teaching  himself  phrases 
of  their  language. 

Not  long  after  this  new  life  had  opened  for  him,  he 
was  waked  one  night,  in  the  midst  of  his  usual  sound 
sleep,  by  heavy  tramping  in  the  passages,  and,  in  a 
minute  more,  was  conscious  of  the  tang-tang-tang  of 
what  he  supposed  was  the  bell  of  a  fire-engine  house, 
which  must  be  somewhere  near  him.  Jasper  roused 
himself  enough  to  observe  all  this,  reflected  that  it  was 
no  business  of  his,  and  tried  to  go  to  sleep  again.  But 
sleep  was  not  easy.  It  was  clear  enough  that  every 
one  else  in  the  boarding-house  thought  the  fire  was  his 
own  business,  whatever  Jasper  thought ;  and,  at  last, 
he  dragged  himself  to  his  window  and  looked  out,  — 
to  find  that  a  furniture  store  in  the  next  street  was  all 
aflame,  and  to  begin  to  understand  that  a  new  city,  like 
Detroit,  had  other  laws  than  the  old  places  he  was  used 
to,  and  that  it  might  be  his  own  business  to  attend  to 
his  neighbor's  in  this  extremit}'.  He  locked  his  trunk, 
dressed  as  rapidly  as  he  might,  and  ran  down  to  the 
fire. 

It  is  an  amazing  sight,  a  fire  in  a  new  town  at  mid 
night,  —  the  discipline  and  obedience,  on  the  one  hand  ; 
the  amount  of  spontaneous  and  unpurchased  work,  on 
the  other.  Here  was  this  furnace,  three  times  heated, 
of  a  warehouse,  packed  full  of  the  most  combustible 
matter.  Dark  on  either  side,  protected  only  b}-  brick 
walls,  were  other  warehouses,  in  which  moving  lights 
showed  you  that  men  were  working  hard  to  pack  and 
save  books  and  valuables  while  there  was  yet  time.  In 


56  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

the  street  where  Jasper  was  were  two  fire-engines,  and 
a  hose-carriage  or  two,  and  a  few  men  with  speaking- 
trumpets  giving  intelligent  and  cheery  directions,  as  if 
pretending  that  their  wholl}'  inadequate  machinery  was 
all  that  could  be  asked  for  in  the  exigency,  and  lo}*ally 
obe}Ted  by  every  man  in  the  throng  with  the  same 
affected  confidence.  On  the  roofs  of  the  two  side  build 
ings,  sometimes  on  the  central  roof,  which  had  not  yet 
fallen,  appeared,  in  the  midst  of  smoke  and  steam, 
other  men  with  trumpets,  who  conversed,  even  con 
sulted,  with  those  below.  A  pipe  here,  a  hose  carried 
there,  showed  the  result  of  such  colloquies.  Then  came 
the  cheery,  "Play  away,  Hero,"  "Play  away,  Tecum- 
seh,"  and  the  thud,  thud,  thud  of  the  most  wasteful 
wa}r  of  using  human  power,  answered  with  a  will,  as  if 
to  say  that  men  are  alwa}'s  ready  to  sacrifice  them 
selves,  even  to  the  last  fibre,  if  only  there  be  intelligent 
command  and  an  unselfish  motive.  "  Now  then ;  let 
her  have  it !  What  are  you  afraid  of  ?  Good,  once 
more  !  Put  in,  Hero  !  Play  away,  Tecumseh  !  One, 
two ;  one,  two ;  one,  two.  Well  done,  boys,  well 
done !  "  and  every  other  word  of  encouragement,  as 
one  or  another  phase  of  the  unequal  war  took  turn. 
The  brakes  of  the  engines  were  crowded  full,  with  men 
in  ever}"  dress,  driving  the  little  machines  to  the  very 
edge  of  their  possible  performance.  The  dense  throng 
of  men  looking  on,  only  waited  their  turn  at  the  ex 
hausting  lajbor,  and  so  understood  their  position. 

"Now,  gentlemen,  walk  up;  spell  these  men;  you 
don't  moan  to  have-  thorn  work  all  night,  do  }'ou?  Take 
hold,  with  a  will !  What  are  you  afraid  of  ?  You  won't 
empty  tho  lake,  I  guess."  And  so  Jasper  and  the  men 
around  him  rushed  forward  to  take  the  places  of  those 
exhaust  od  ;  and  ho  found  himself  with  his  hands  on  the 
largo  round  bar,  at  tho  otornal  up  and  down,  wondering 
whothor  indood  he  did  anything,  or  whether  he  wore 
pulled  to  and  fro  himself,  in  this  jerking  movement,  by 
a  power  to  which  ho  did  not  seem  to  lend  the  worth  or 
weight  of  a  straw. 

lie  could  not  even  see  the  stream  he  was  trying  to 


BEGIN  AGAIN.  57 

drive.  He  could  only  see  the  letters  "ER,"  of  the 
word  "  Hero."  But  he  could  hear  that  hoarse  foreman, 
"  Now,  then  !  what  are  you  afraid  of  ?  "  He  almost 
felt  ashamed  that  he  did  so  little.  He  was*  conscious 
of  a  new  esprit  de  corps,  in  the  mad  determination  that 
Tecumseh,  which  was  pumping  into  Hero,  should  not 
over-fill  her  water-tank,  as  there  were  rumors  she  once 
had  done.  Then  came  the  terrible  doubt,  "  How  long 
can  I  stand  this  ?  Can  I  hold  on  at  this  till  we  are 
spelled  ?  What  a  disgrace  to  let  go  !  Could  I  let  go, 
if  I  tried?"  And,  at  that  instant,  the  man  next  him 
gave  a  choking  cry,  lost  his  hold,  and  went  down,  like 
a  log,  on  the  wet  stones. 

Jasper  and  his  new  next  neighbor  dragged  the  poor 
fellow  out,  one  of  them,  at  least,  inwardly  grateful  for 
this  change  of  duty.  They  carried  the  senseless  body 
out  of  the  crowd,  hearing,  as  they  retired,  the  tireless 
foreman.  "  See,  gentlemen,  do  you  mean  to  stand  and 
see  men  die  before  your  eyes  ?  Walk  up  and  spell  us. 
That's  right.  One,  two  ;  one,  two  ;  one,  two.  How's 
your  water,  John?  One,  two:  that's  well,  Hero;  let 
'em  have  it."  And  so  Jasper  and  his  companion  laid 
their  burden  out  on  the  counter  of  an  open  and  empty 
shop,  and,  by  the  light  of  the  conflagration,  stripped 
him  of  his  heavy  clothing,  and  applied  such  restoratives 
as  brought  him  to. 

He  sat  up,  rather  wildly,  on  the  counter ;  hardly 
more  than  a  boy,  though  he  was  so  tall ;  smiled  shyly, 
rubbed  his  eyes ;  dropped  his  head  again,  as  if  faint ; 
took  a  little  brandy  from  Jasper's  companion  ;  looked 
down  with  surprise  to  see  that  he  had  on  no  coat,  and 
that  his  shirt  was  open ;  and  then  made  an  effort  to 
jump  down  and  leave  them.  But  this  they  would  not 
3~et  permit.  They  did  their  best  to  find  where  the 
handsome  fellow  belonged ;  but  so  soon  as  his  real  con 
sciousness  returned,  it  proved  that  he  did  not  under 
stand  a  word  they  said  to  him,  more  than  they 
understood  a  word  of  his.  He  was  a  Norwegian. 

\ 


UNIVERSITY 


58  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 


CHAPTEE  VIII. 

OSCAR. 

TASPER  RISING  had  certainly  never  before  dragged 
a  Norwegian  boy,  faint  from  over-effort,  from 
under  the  wheels  of  a  gasping  and  throbbing  fire- 
engine.  He  was  therefore  sufficiently  excited  by  the 
adventure,  when  at  last,  perhaps  an  hour  before  dajr- 
break,  he  put  off  his  wet  clothes,  and  tumbled  into  bed 
for  that  hour's  rest  before  his  day's  work  began.  He 
had,  in  the  mean  while,  interested  the  "  boarding-mis 
tress  "  in  his  poor  wraif,  and  had  received  her  promise 
to  watch  by  him  till  morning,  and  make  sure  that  he 
should  noj  escape.  But  Jasper  himself,  as  he  thought 
the  thing  over,  while  in  the  sound  of  the  final  noises  of 
the  expiring  fire,  did  not  forsee  the  weeks,  not  to  say 
months,  of  curious  care,  and  insight  into  life  all  strange 
to  him,  which  this  accident  opened  before  him.  Jasper 
was  }~et  too  3'oung  to  know,  that  we  are  all  of  us  always 
sitting  before  the  curtain  which  screens  a  tragecty,  a 
comedy,  or  a  farce,  and  that  any  whistle  or  any  bell 
ma3T  be  the  signal  for  that  curtain  to  rise,  that  a  new 
drama,  which  may  be  a  life-long  drama,  may  begin. 

"What  followed  in  this  case  was  simple  enough, — 
such  things  arc  happening  all  the  time.  The  boy  was 
more  clear-headed  in  the  morning;  and  an  interpreter 
was  found  at  the  breakfast-table,  by  whose  help  it  ap 
peared  that  the  poor  creature's  agony  had  come  from 
his  Tear  that  his  father,  who  was  sick  somewhere  in  the 
city,  would  need  him.  The  whole  sympathy  of  the 
house  was  enlisted,  and  the  lather  was  found.  The 
stoiy,  which  is  acted  out  before  our  eyes  whenever  we 
choose  to  open  them,  was  that  of  the  worn-out  emigrant, 


OSCAR.  59 

who  has  not  found  his  place  in  the  New  Continent  more 
than  he  found  it  in  the  Old.  He  was  not  really  an  old 
man  ;  but  even  Jasper,  inexperienced  as  he  was,  saw  that 
he  had  played  his  game  through,  and  that  his  eager  joy, 
when  they  brought  him  his  lost  boy  again,  was  only 
a  flicker  of  the  light  in  the  socket.  Physically  he  was 
comfortable  enough,  in  much  such  a  house  as  Jasper 
was  living  in  himself.  But,  excepting  for  his  bo}T,  he 
was  hopelessty  lonely.  The  poor  old  fellow  showed, 
too,  all  the  signs  of  wearing  homesickness  and  of  heart 
broken  disappointment.  Everything  had  gone  wrong. 
He  had  been  cheated  by  his  countrymen,  he  had  been 
cheated  by  strangers.  He  had  tried  trade  in  New 
York,  and  had  failed.  He  had  taken  up  new  land  in 
Illinois,  and  had  seen  his  daughter  wilt  away  and  die, 
and  then  had  seen  his  wife  wilt  awaj-  and  die.  At  last, 
in  a  moment  which  he  chose  to  call  deluded,  he  had 
sent  out  to  Norway  for  the  boy  he  left  behind  when  he 
came  over.  This  was  Jasper's  waif.  The  boy  had 
found  his  father,  and  had  joined  his  father's  fortunes. 
But  the  tide  had  already  turned,  —  and,  at  last,  dis 
couraged,  he  was  giving  up  the  battle.  And  it  was  at 
that  time,  that  the  accident  of  the  fire  brought  Jasper 
into  the  little  tragedy. 

It  was  almost  ended.  The  doctors  can  do  little 
when  life  itself  has  so  long  been  made  to  do  ten  times 
the  duty  it  should  do.  Everything  was  the  matter 
with  the  poor  man,  —  or  nothing  was  the  matter  with 
him,  as  you  chose  to  say.  All  was,  he  was  dying. 
The  earthly  hull  was  done  with,  and  the  old  engine 
was  to  work  a  new  one.  All  there  was  for  Jasper  and 
his  friendly  boarding-mistress  to  do,  was  to  make  the 
poor  fellow  believe  that  his  boy  was  not  left  to  sharpers, 
and  to  see  that  the  closing  hours  of  earth  were  not 
painful  for  him  to  remember. 

So  he  died  and  was  buried  by  strangers'  hands. 
And  Jasper  found  that  he  had  now  the  gratitude  and 
passionate  allegiance  of  this  orphaned  Oscar,  —  found 
that,  with  all  his  inexperience,  he  was  to  advise  as  to 
the  boy's  future,  —  found  that  he  had  the  duty,  not  dif- 


60  UPS  AND  D  0  WNS. 

ficult,  of  administering  on  the  poor  old  father's  estate.  To 
think  that  he,  himself  just  starting  on  manhood,  should 
be  the  only  child  of  Vinland  who  had  succeeded  in  ren 
dering  any  kindness,  or  giving  any  welcome,  to  this 
stranded  Viking ! 

Administration  was  easy  enough.  The  emigrant 
chest  contained  all  the  property,  and  a  hopeless  mess  it 
was  :  some  old  account-books  of  the  miserable  shop  he 
kept  for  Danes  and  Swedes  and  Norwegians  in  New 
York ;  some  files  of  the  processes  by  which  he  there 
went  into  bankruptcy;  the  land-office  documents  by 
which  he  acquired  his  title  to  his  farm  in  Illinois ;  a 
lithographic  plan  of  a  city,  most  likely  in  a  swamp, 
where  he  had  been  cajoled  into  bivying  a  share,  and  even 
the  deeds  of  lots,  —  alternate  numbers  from  eleven  to 
thirt3T-one.  Tied  with  a  blue  ribbon,  carefully  wrapped 
in  parchment,  were  the  letters  which  Christine  sent  him 
before  they  were  married,  —  tied  in  with  the  ribbon  was 
a  gold  ring.  Then  a  memorandum  book,  carefully  kept, 
showed  that  he  had  sold  his  farm  for  less  than  the  im 
provements  cost  him,  after  Christine  had  died.  It 
showed,  had  one  chosen  to  untangle  it,  how  everything 
had  gone  wrong.  Mixed  in  with  these  more  essential 
things  were  a  few  Norwegian  books,  which  had  survived 
the  wreck,  because,  perhaps,  no  one  would  bivy  them, 
some  magazines  and  newspapers  ;  and  this  was  all  the 
inventory. 

Jasper  wrote  twice  to  an  attorney  in  Michigan  City 
about  the  swamp-lots,  and  got  no  answer.  It  was 
clear  enough  that  Oscar,  like  Jasper,  was  to  begin  life 
without  a  fortune. 

But  not  without  a  friend  ;  and  I  have  been  the  more 
willing  to  tell  the  story  of  the  beginning  of  this  friend 
ship  in  this  detail,  because  the  boy  Oscar  and  his  poor 
dying  father  really  rendered  to  .Jasper,  as  it  proved,  the 
M-rviee  that  no  'Mr.  Fordhannner  or  no  Miss  Mary 
Chandler  of  them  all,  from  the  very  nature  of  the  case, 
could  render.  They  saved  my  poor  hero  from  himself. 
.Jasper  was  proud,  quite  too  proud  to  put  himself  on 
the  society  of  people  who  did  not  seem  to  want  to  see 


OSCAR.  61 

him  very  much,  or  whom  he  suspected  of  that  indiffer 
ence.  He  had  been  compelled,  for  a  time  quite  too 
long  indeed,  to  think  solely  of-  himself  and  his  own  af 
fairs.  A  note  once  a  week  to  his  aunt,  and  another 
from  her,  the  purchase  perhaps  of  a  yard  of  blue  baivge 
that  she  could  not  find  at  Dexter,  or  some  little  present 
of  a  pound  of  better  tea  than  he  thought  she  would 
have  there,  was  but  a  little  counter-check  in  the  current 
of  a  week's  lonely  life.  His  correspondence  with  "the 
fellows,"  his  old  classmates,  was  running  diy.  He  had 
not  much  to  tell  them,  and  they  had  not  much  to  tell 
him.  The  college  pleasantries  became  a  little  tame 
when  they  were  put  on  paper ;  when  put  on  paper  a 
second  time  they  seemed  to  reader  and  writer  like 
stale  tobacco-smoke,  and  so  they  never  appeared  a  third 
time.  With  the  other  workmen  and  clerks  at  the  sta 
tion  Jasper  had  a  pleasant  daily  acquaintance,  but  it 
had  not  anywhere  ripened  into  intimacy.  And  it  may 
well  have  been  that  pride,  dress,  poverty,  and  stranger- 
hood  may  have  kept  poor  Jasper  wholly  an$  even  fatally 
to  himself,  had  not  one  stroke  too  many  on  the  brakes 
of  the  Hero  engine  literally  thrown  Oscar  into  his 
arms. 

So  soon  as  he  found  how  completely  dependent  Os 
car  was  upon  him,  Jasper  was  not  the  man  to  let  him 
go.  No !  They  saw  the  grave  filled  above  the  old 
Norseman.  Jasper  with  his  own  hand  smoothed  the 
gravel  and  adjusted  the  sod,  and  for  this  act  of  sjon- 
pathy  the  boy  thanked  him  his  life  long.  When  they 
came  home,  Jasper  explained  to  him  that  they  were  to 
sleep  in  the  same  room :  he  had  driven  Mistress  Mar 
garet  up  to  that  arrangement.  And  when,  that  eve 
ning,  the  grateful  fellow  forgot  himself  for  half  an 
hour,  in  working  with  Jasper  on  a  Danish  or  Norwe 
gian  exercise  which  Jasper  insisted  on  writing,  Jasper 
felt  his  victory  indeed.  They  used  a  French  "  Ollen- 
dorff"  for  the  phrases'  sake.  And  Oscar  was  fairly 
amused  to  see  the  number  of  conditions  in  which  they 
could  place  the  "  gardener,"  and  the  "  wife  of  the  gar 
dener,"  and  the  "friend  of  the  gardener's  sou."  lie, 


62  UPS  AXD 

too,  forgot  exile,  forgot  tears,  forgot  everything  for 
the  moment,  when  Jasper  had  the  wit  to  show  him 
that  he,  too,  was  good  for  something. 

And  Jasper,  of  course,  had  to  teach  him  English 
too.  Not  so  hard,  for  these  Norsemen  are,  after  all, 
our  cousins.  Into  one  great  kettle  was  plunged  a  dip- 
perful  of  Keltic  roots,  a  dipperful  of  German,  a  smat 
tering  of  Latin,  and  a  flavor  of  Norman-French ; 
and,  when  we  sip  the  soup  from  that  kettle,  we  call 
the  delicious  compound  English.  Into  another  kettle, 
not  quite  so  large,  were  poured  smaller  cupfuls  of  Ger 
man  roots  and  Keltic,  with  a  smattering  of  Latin,  and 
a  flavor  of  French.  The  flavor  of  the  soup  is  delicious, 
only  we  call  it  Swedish.  These  two  soups  are  not 
very  unlike  each  other :  though  one  is  a  little  dashed 
when  he  reads  his  Swedish  Testament  to  find  that  a 
*' disciple"  is  a  "larjunge."*  Oscar's  language  was 
yet  a  third  of  these  mixtures  of  the  eternal  elements 
of  European  speech.  It  was  Danish,  as  Danish  is 
modified  in  Norwegian  conversation ;  Teutonic  roots 
more  plent}T  than  with  us,  perhaps  ;  Latin  roots,  French 
intermixtures  even  ;  and  an  occasional  racy  tang  of  the 
good  old  Icelandic  itself.  Oscar  knew  something  of 
the  Swedish  also ;  and  while  he  taught  these  dialects 
he  learned  as  well,  and  while  he  learned  he  taught,  — 
only  eager  to  do  what  would  please  Jasper,  and  de 
lighted  if,  at  the  same  moment,  he  could  serve  him. 
So  the}*-  both  got  something  which  is  a  million  times 
better  than  that  questionable  good,  "  self-culture." 

And  now  it  was  Jasper's  turn  to  play  Mr.  Ford- 
hammer  and  Mr.  Keyl  —  to  find  "  a  place"  for  Oscar. 
"  A  place ! "  how  much  satire  there  is  in  the  word ! 
lie  had  this  time  his  own  experience  to  profit  by.  He 
took  care  that  the  boy  should  begin  at  the  bottom,  and 
poor  Oscar  made  no  dilliculty  about  that.  Bottom  in 
deed  !  He  would  have  begun  at  the  bottom  of  a  well, 
or  of  a  lead-shaft  at  Galena,  had  Jasper  bidden.  Jas 
per  had  no  thought  that  Oscar  was  his  servant,  scarcely 

*  Which  is  to  say,  "Learn  youngster." 


OSCAH.  63 

thought  that  he  was  his  pupil.  But  from  morning 
to  night,  and  from  Sunday  to  Saturday,  Oscar's  feel 
ing,  deeper  than  thought,  was  simple  gratitude  that 
Jasper  was  his  master.  Every  day  when  Jasper  went 
to  his  work,  Oscar  went  with  him,  until  Jasper  could 
make  some  excuse  to  send  him  away.  It  was  aston 
ishing  to  see  how  soon  he  learned  the  names  of  streets, 
the  names  of  people,  and  by  what  a  divine  instinct  he 
learned  how  to  do  an  errand,  when  he  could  not  under 
stand  one  word  in  twenty  of  those  that  gave  the  order. 
It  was  not  long,  therefore,  before  Jasper,  growing  him 
self  in  authority  now,  found  a  vacant  laborer's  kt  place  " 
that  he  could  push  Oscar  into  as  a  "  substitute."  The 
"  substitute,"  in  this  finite  world  of  ours,  soon  finds 
himself  a  "  regular,"  if  he  does  not  drink,  if  he  tells 
the  truth,  and  is  punctual  to  his  duty ;  so  little,  in 
deed,  does  a  hard-pressed  world  demand  of  its  ser 
vants.  And  so,  as  the  summer  passed  on,  the  day 
that  Jasper  noted  as  the  Commencement  at  Cam 
bridge,  twelve  months  after  his  own  triumph  there, 
he  was  himself  regularly  installed  in  a  post  of  some 
little  authority  in  the  freight-station,  and  Oscar  was 
that  day  on  duty  cleaning  cars  from  mud,  in  the  voca 
tion  in  which  his  master  began. 

Oscar  was  paid  his  wages  week  b}T  week,  and  reg 
ularly  brought  the  money  to  Jasper.  Neither  of  these 
gentlemen  had  attained  the  dignity  and  the  inconve 
nience  of  salaries  and  quarter-days.  Jasper  had  thought 
over,  with  some  anxiet}-,  the  business  of  Oscar's  money, 
as  a  part  of  the  guardianship,  which  seemed,  without 
any  authority  from  surrogate,  or  chancery,  or  pro 
bate  court,  to  have  alighted  upon  him.  So  long  as  the 
poor  boy  was  an  expense  to  him,  the  problem  was 
simple  enough.  But  when  Oscar's  father  died,  after 
all  charges  were  paid,  there  was  a  hundred  dollars  or 
more  left  of  what  had  been  the  poor  fellow's  all ;  and 
now  Oscar  was  earning  twice  what  his  living  cost,  and 
all  Jasper's  little  advances  on  his  account  were  repaid. 
All  this  brought  before  Jasper  the  pros  and  cons  of  the 


64  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

case.  Was  he  this  boy's  guardian,  or  not?  If  the 
boy  wanted  to  make  ducks  and  drakes  of  his  little  pat- 
rimony,  could  he  hinder  him,  and,  if  so,  how?  And 
was  there  somewhere  in  Norway  some  uncle  or  aunt 
who  had  a  better  claim  to  the  rights  and  responsibil 
ities  of  guardianship  than  Jasper  had  ?  Poor  fellow  ! 
it  brought  up  curiously  enough  all  the  memories  of  his 
own  orphanhood ;  and  he  drew  a  long  breath  as  he  re 
membered  how  unconscious  and  indifferent  he  then  was 
to  all  such  thought  or  care. 

But  now  he  was  the  care-taker,  not  the  cared-for, — 
guardian,  not  guarded.  And  so,  after  breakfast  one 
Sunday  morning,  he  bade  Oscar  walk  down  with  him 
to  one  of  the  more  secluded  lumber-yards  by  the  side 
of  the  lake,  found  a  shady  place  on  a  pile  of  boards, 
where  they  had  a  back  as  they  sat,  and,  as  soon  he  saw 
Oscar  was  well  engaged  with  a  lath  which  he  was  cut 
ting,  began  pumping  him  about  relatives  and  home. 

"  Were  you  happy  at  your  uncle's,  at  Molna,  Oscar?  " 

"What  is  happy?"  said  the  unconscious  ward. 

"Did  you  like  It?  Were  they  kind  ?  Did  you  like 
them?  Did  you  have  a  good  time?"  said  Jasper, 
finally  falling  back  on  the  dialect  of  the  Yengeese. 

"  Did  I  like  it  ?  I  did  not  like  it.  Were  they  kind  ? 
They  not  kind.  Did  I  love  them?  I  hate  them.  A 
good  time  ?  I  haved  a  dam  bad  time." 

The  answer  was  at  least  definite,  and  its  resemblance 
to  Ollendorff  's  exercises  on  the  tenses  of  verbs  amused 
Jasper,  even  while  he  was  struggling  to  maintain  the 
gravity  of  a  self-appointed  judge  of  probate.  He  told 
Oscar  for  the  hundredth  time  that  he  must  not  say 
"dam,"  thai  fragment  of  an  English  syllable  seeming 
to  bo  the  part  of  the  language  which  he  had  first  ac 
quired,  and,  iu  consequence,  to  be  the  last  which,  with 
his  dying  breath,  he  would  lay  down.  The  poor  child 
v.as  pure  as  purity,  and  had,  as  yet,  no  real  idea  of  the 
profanity  of  the  expression. 

The  judge  <>f  probate  tried  :igain.  "But  your  uncle 
had  a  good  house.  You  had  enough  to  eat.  You  had 
clothes  to  wear." 


OSCAR.  65 

"No  good  house,"  persisted  the  ward  in  chancery. 
Then  came  a  volle}T  of  Danish.  Then  he  explained,  "  I 
say  house  no  good,  where  uncle  fight  and  swear,  she- 
uncle  fight  and  swear,  big  Michael  swear  and  drink, 
big  Christine  swear  and  drink,  all  swear  and  drink ; 
all  tell  Oscar  go  carry  fetch,  go  fetch  carry ;  }TOU 
come  here  Oscar,  you  go  there  Oscar,  up  stairs  Oscar, 
down  stairs  Oscar,  in-door  Oscar,  out-door  Oscar.  I 
say  no  good  house  ;  I  say  dam  bad  house.  No,  no,  no  ! 
not  dam  bad ;  I  say  bad,  bad,  bad  house.  What  for  I 
care  good  clothes  to  wear,  if  Christine  drink,  if  big 
Michael  lie,  if  mine  uncle  swear,  if  mine  she-uncle 
scold?  No  good  house  ;  no  good  uncle." 

This  was  b}T  far  the  longest  speech  Oscar  had  ever 
made  in  the  English  language,  and  it  reflected  immense 
credit  on  his  teacher  and  the  Ollendorff. 

It  did  not  appear  to  Jasper  that  his  case  in  chancery 
was  getting  on  particularly  well.  He  tried  on  another 
tack. 

"  Let  us  see :  how  many  weeks  since  you  wrote  to 
your  uncle  to  tell  him  your  father  died  ?  " 

The  boy  started  up  at  the  words,  walked  sharply  to 
the  end  of  the  pier,  threw  into  the  water  the  stick  which 
he  had  been  cutting,  and  looked  as  if  he  would  be  glad 
to  go  in  after  it.  Then,  in  his  impulsive  way,  he  rushed 
back  to  Jasper,  his  eyes  streaming  with  tears ;  he  fell 
on  his  own  knees  in  the  chips  before  him,  and  hid  his 
head  between  Jasper's  knees.  He  sobbed  there  pas- 
sionatel}',  and  looked  up  to  say  : 

"  I  no  tell  you  lie,  my  master  !  "  The  poor  boy,  hav 
ing  chosen  from  the  beginning  to  call  Jasper  master, 
could  not  be  prevented  when  he  was  in  the  least  ex 
cited.  To  say  "  Jasper  "  seemed  to  be  a  forced  piece 
of  etiquette  or  decorum ;  and  Jasper  never  heard  him 
say  "  Mr.  Rising,"  though  behind  Jasper's  back  no  one 
ever  heard  him  say  anything  else.  "  I  no  tell  you  lie, 
my  master  ;  you  say  to  me,  '  Write  letter  to  your  un 
cle  ; '  I  write  him.  You  write  him  name  and  place. 
You  give  me  money,  and  show  me,  tell  me  carry  him  to 
otlice,  post-office.  I  no  say  yes  ;  I  no  say  nothing.  I 
5 


66  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

take  that  dam  letter,  and  I  no  go  to  that  dam  post- 
office.  I  go  down  to  ferry.  I  wait  till  boat  just  fore 
being  come  in,  —  all  water  boil,  bubble,  boil ;  I  throw 
that  dam  letter  in  water  ;  I  throw  in  that  quarter  dollar 
3Tou  give  me.  Boat  come  in :  all  boil  water,  no  letter 
there ;  I  go  home,  I  no  say  I  take  letter  to  that  post- 
office." 

And  having  relieved  his  conscience  thus,  he  fell  to 
sobbing  again  on  Jasper's  knees. 

"  So,"  said  the  judge  of  probate  to  himself,  "  we 
have  not  so  much  as  given  notice  of  the  death  of  the 
intestate."  He  let  the  poor  boy  sob  on  a  minute  ;  and 
Oscar  first  broke  silence. 

"  O  my  master,  I  bad  boy,  I  bad  boy !  but  certain 
true,  my  master,  I  no  sa}r  dam  again." 

The  feeling  that  he  had  displeased  Jasper,  in  any 
thing  he  had  asked  or  bidden,  was  much  stronger  than 
any  feeling  that  he  had  wronged  his  uncle. 

"  No  matter,  no  matter,  dear  Oscar.  But  what  for 
you  do  this  ?  Wh}'  not  tell  your  uncle  that  his  brother 
is  dead?" 

"  Not  he  brother  ;  not  he  brother  !  "  Here  another 
volley  of  Danish,  ending  by  an  explanation,  in  very 
broken  English,  that  this  beer-guzzling,  gin-drinking 
Viking  of  lire-water  was  brother  of  Oscar's  mother  and 
not  of  his  father,  —  as  if  that  had  made  any  difference. 
And  then  to  Jasper's  persistent  "  why,"  the  boy  at  last 
looked  him  squarely  in  the  face,  with  his  great  black 
eyes : 

"  Letter  go  Norway,  go  to  mine  uncle.  Mine  uncle 
read  him.  Uncle  sa^y,  '  Catch  Oscar  again  !  Oscar  big 
boy  now;  Oscar  cut  wood,  row  boat,  catch  fish,  go 
fetch  carry.  Oscar  come  home.'  Mine  uncle  send 
what  you  call  sheriff,  president,  governor,  some  little 
sort  of  king,  catch  poor  Oscar,  put  those  iron  things 
on  him  hands,  tumble  him  down,  carry  him  home." 
Oscar  had  been  terribly  impressed  by  seeing  a  Cleve 
land  house-breaker  arrested  and  carried  off  one  day  by 
an  Ohio  officer  with  a  warrant.  "  1'oor  Oscar  leave  him 
master ;  go  to  him  uncle.  No,  no,  no ! " 


OSCAR. 

Jasper  meanwhile  had  been  going* 
notions  of  probate  law,  and  trying 
nal  rights  and  wrongs.  What  reason,  divine  or  human, 
was  there,  why  he  should  undertake  to  send  this  boy 
home  ?  All  that  God  or  man  wanted  wras,  that  the  boy 
should  be  eared  for,  should  be  kept  from  temptation,  as 
far  as  might  be,  should  be  kept  from  swindlers  and 
thieves.*  Any  decent  probate  court  in  the  world  would 
bid  a  young  man  of  this  age  choose  his  own  guardian  ; 
and  Jasper  saw  no  reason  why  he  should  attempt  to 
press  the  matter  of  a  return  to  Norway  farther.  He 
had  sounded  Oscar  pretty  thoroughly,  and  had  found 
out  his  wishes.  So  he  tried  to  turn  the  talk  to  some 
indifferent  subject,  a  passing  steamboat,  a  flight  of 
ducks  on  the  lake,  and  then  on  one  or  another  occur 
rence  in  the  street  as  they  walked  home.  But  Oscar 
was  silent ;  not  sulky  nor  moody,  but  thoughtful,  and 
would  scarcely  reply.  When  they  had  come  up  into 
their  own  room  together,  and  Jasper  had  sat  down  to 
some  writing,  Oscar  crossed  the  room,  opened  the 
drawer  of  the  bureau,  drew  from  it  a  pistol  which 
Jasper  kept  there,  and,  with  the  simplicity  of  a  child, 
carried  it  to  him. 

"  Kill  me,  my  master  ;  kill  your  boy." 

"  Mj'  poor  Oscar,  what  do  you  mean?" 

"  I  mean  kill  Oscar  ;  no  send  him  away." 

"  But  my  poor  child,"  said  Jasper,  in  tears  himself 
this  time,  "  who  wants  to  send  you  away  ?  What  are 
you  afraid  of?  I  will  never  send  you  away." 

"O  my  master!  what  for  you  ask  about  letter? 
What  for  you  ask  about  mine  uncle  ?  and  what  for  you 
tell  me  to  write  letter  ?  What  for  you  tired  teach  poor 
Oscar,  take  care  poor  Oscar,  make  poor  Oscar  home?" 

Jasper  was  fairly  upset :  he  promised  the  boy,  by  all 
that  was  holy,  that  he  should  never  be  parted  from  him 
but  with  his  own  consent.  He  tried  to  explain  that  all 
the  uncles  in  Norway  could  not  take  him  against  his 
will.  He  soothed  his  wounded  love  as  best  he  knew 
how.  He  fondled  him  and  caressed  him.  He  told  him 
that  he  loved  him  too  well  to  do  anything  which  would 


68  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

not  be  for  his  best  good.  In  all  of  which  Oscar  caught 
the  spirit,  if  he  did  not  make  out  the  words.  Once  and 
again  he  made  Jasper  repeat  those  which  said  they 
should  not  be  parted ;  and  then  his  handsome  face 
cleared  almost  as  suddenly  as  it  had  clouded,  and  he 
seemed  perfectly  happy. 

Jasper  took  him  to  church  with  him ;  and  the  bo}', 
who  did  not  understand  ten  words  of  sermon,  pra3Ter, 
or  Irymn,  regarded  the  whole  service  as  a  sacrament 
binding  him  and  "  his  master"  together  for  weal  or  for 
woe.  Jasper  tried  as  he  came  home  to  explain  to  him 
about  the  disposition  of  his  wrages.  But  the  boy  did 
not  care,  and  could  not  be  made  to  care.  Once  assured 
that  he  would  be  no  burden  on  Jasper's  purse,  that  was 
enough.  For  the  rest :  "  You  take  my  dollar.  My 
dollar  you  dollar,  all  one  ;  I  your  Oscar,  }'ou  my  master. 
That's  all." 

It  was  not  long  before  this  contract  of  wages  brought 
out  a  result  for  both  of  them  which  neither  had  imag 
ined.  The  winter  wrhich  followed  these  events  was 
one  still  remembered  through  the  North-west,  and  indeed 
through  the  Atlantic  States,  for  the  sudden  contraction 
in  all  credits,  —  which  resulted,  rightly  or  not,  from  the 
New-York  panic  which  sprung  from  the  London  panic, 
when  the  great  houses  of  Westerholm,  and  of  Alters  and 
Alters  went  under  so  suddenly.  AVith  a  sudden  jerk  all 
loosened  credits  were  twitched  up.  Many  a  rein 
broke  with  the  twitch.  Many  a  horse  balked,  shied,  or 
started  and  ran.  For  months  upon  months  chaos  reigned 
among  men  who  borrow,  and  among  men  who  lend. 
And  in  the  midst  of  this  chaos,  Jasper  Rising  found,  to 
Ids  aina/einent,  that  he  wras  a  capitalist. 

He  went  in  one  day  to  a  little  carriage-factory ,  where 
lie  knew  the  people,  to  inquire  I'.bout  Hie  best  way  to 
purchase  some  varnish,  which  the  station-master  needed 
in  some  miserable  ear-repairs,  lie  saw  at  once  that 
the  phuv  v,:is  in  confusion;  and,  as  he  looked  round, 
satisfied  himself  that  some,  "smart  man  of  business" 
had  -<>t  in  there  by  way  of  setting  to  rights  some  mat 
ter  of  which  he  knew  nothing,  lie  got  his  information, 


OSCAE.  69 

however,  from  Buffum,  the  principal,  and  left  the  shop, 
to  find  that  this  gentleman  followed  him  into  the  street. 

"  You  know  we  are  all  broken  up  here,"  Mr.  Rising. 
No  :  Jasper  had  not  known  anything  of  the  kind.  Such 
things  happen  very  quickly ;  and  he  was  in  no  circle 
where  they  talked  of  them.  ,  So  poor  Mr.  Buffum  had 
to  explain :  an  every-day  story.  The  little  carriage- 
factory  had  alwaj's  been  run  very  much  on  credit.  Buf- 
funi's  partner,  a  showy,  unreliable  fellow,  of  the  satin 
waistcoat  and  heavy  gold-chain  type,  who  always  cared 
more  about  horses  than  he  did  about  carriages,  had 
taken  occasion,  a  month  before,  to  run  away  with  some- 
bod}^  else  wife,  and  all  the  ready  money  of  the  con 
cern  which  he  "could  lay  hands  upon.  This  had  been 
an  ugly  thing  enough :  then  the  panic  had  come ;  no 
bank  in  Detroit  would  renew  a  penny  of  their  paper, 
and  so  the  modest  little  establishment  was  knocked 
higher  than  a  kite,  as  Mr.  Buffum  put  in,  before  he 
could  turn  round.  Every  carriage  they  had,  finished  or 
unfinished,  was  attached,  "  grabbed,"  in  the  elegant 
phrase  of  the  streets,  by  one  creditor  or  another.  All 
the  material  that  could  be  removed  was  seized  in  the 
same  way.  And  the  creditors  who  had  not  succeeded 
in  "grabbing"  what  they  thought  sufficient  had  got 
some  sort  of  proceedings  in  bankruptcy  a-going,  by 
which  such  rights  as  there  were  in  the  shop  itself  and 
any  other  property  there,  were  to  be  sold  at  auction  for 
whom  it  might  concern.  The  workmen  were  hanging 
round  to  secure,  as  they  might,  their  back  pay.  The 
foreman,  an  honest  fellow,  was  there,  keeping  an  eye 
on  the  wreck.  But  the  snug  little  factory  of  Buffum 
&  Woods,  which  a  month  ago  was  as  promising  an  es 
tablishment  for  its  size  as  there  was  in  the  street,  wrould 
very  soon  be  nowhere. 

Jasper  was  interested  in  all  this  story  of  ruin,  but  he 
did  wonder  wh}'  Mr.  Buffum  told  it  to  him.  How 
should  Mr.  Buiium  know  that  he  had  seen  like  ruin  on 
a  much  larger  scale,  only  a  }*ear  ago,  at  Duqucsne? 
He  was  entirely  surprised,  when  Mr.  Buffum  closed  his 
story  by  sa}Ting,  "  Really,  Mr.  Rising,  we  owe  veiy  lit- 


70  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

tie.  I  have  got  orders  in  my  pocket  now  from  Ann 
Arbor,  from  Marshall,  from  Dexter,  whj',  even  from 
Cleveland,  Mr.  Rising,  on  which  we  would  make  profit 
enough  to  clear  every  cent  of  this  debt,  if  they  would 
only  give  us  time.  And  is  it  not  a  shame  for  an  honest 
man  to  see  the  work  of  ten  years  swept  away  and  his 
family  left  begging,  to  see  as  good  men  as  my  workmen 
there  sent  out  on  the  streets  in  the  middle  of  winter, 
for  want  of  a  miserable  discount  of  five  hundred  dol 
lars?" 

Jasper  was  disgusted.  This  was  exactly  like  Du- 
quesne.  He  showed  his  sympathy  by  some,  kind  ques 
tion  ;  and  Buffum  explained,  that  the  men  to  whom  he 
owed  money  were,  with  scarcely  an  exception,  his 
friends,  even  his  companions, — that  there  was  hardly 
one  of  them  who  wanted  to  be  hard  on  him.  But  the 
squeeze  in  the  mone3^-market  affected  them  all  alike ; 
no  one  of  them  alone  could  afford  to  lose  his  claim, 
even  though  it  seemed  a  trifle.  There  were  one  or  two 
strangers,  and  of  course  the  workmen,  who  must  have 
cash  ;  and,  if  anybod}^  was  to  have  cash,  all  must  have 
it.  Buffum  supposed  that  it  was  too  late  to  save  the  old 
firm  from  bankruptcy.  But  here  was  the  shop,  here 
were  the  men ;  in  especial,  here  was  the  foreman,  on 
whom  Buffum  could  not  help  passing  an  eulogy,  finding 
to  his  joy  that  he  had  in  Jasper  a  listener.  Up  till  this 
moment,  Jasper  had  felt  that  Buffum  knew  of  his  own 
misfortunes,  and  was  telling  his  story  for  mere  weari 
ness  of  spirit,  because  he  must  tell  it,  or  die.  But  now 
Jasper  found,  that  all  this  narrative  was  an  introduc 
tion  before  Mr.  Buffum  asked  him,  if  he,  Jasper  Rising, 
did  not  want  to  step  into  the  breach,  poor  Mr.  Buffum 
being  only  eager  to  show  him  what  resources  and  what 
securities  were  still  left  to  him,  though  now  rendered 
unavailable. 

.Jasper  wns  on  the  point  of  laughing  in  his  face. 
His  one  feeling  was  that  of  pure  1'un,  that  he  should 
have  In-cn  mistaken  for  a  capitalist.  But  to  laugh 
would  have  been  unkind.  And  Jasper  walked  on,  gulp 
ing  down  that  temptation ;  and  still  showing  so  much 


OS  CAS.  71 

of  a  fellow-sufferer's  sympathy  that  Buffum  in  his  turn 
went  on  with  what  he  had  hoped,  and  what  he  wished, 
and  what  he  could  propose. 

The  upshot  of  it  all  was,  that  at  this  projected  auc 
tion-sale,  which  would  scatter  the  whole  concern  to  the 
winds,  nobody  expected  to  realize  a  thousand  dollars 
cash  from  everything  there  was,  not  "  grabbed "  or 
"  grabbable."  With  that  result  nobody  would  get  any 
dividend  of  any  value,  the  shop  would  be  destroyed, 
Buffum  ruined,  the  workmen  scattered.  "  But  if,  Mr. 
Rising,  anybody  liked  to  take  an  interest  in  the  con 
cern  to  the  amount  of  a  thousand  dollars ;  if,  —  I 
thought  it  possible  some  friend  of  yours  would,  —  or 
perhaps  you  }'ourself  might  think  of  it ;  wiry,  I  do  as 
sure  you,  sir,  if  you  will  only  look  at  our  contracts  any 
man  would  be  wholly  safe ;  and  if,  twelve  months 
hence,  he  wanted  to  withdraw,  he  could  take  out  twice 
the  money  he  put  in." 

Drowning  men  catch  at  straws,  or  Mr.  Buffum  would 
never  have  made  this  proposal  to  a  man  he 'knew  so 
little  as  young  Rising.  But  he  made  it ;  and,  seeing 
that  he  said  nothing,  he  went  on,  "  There  need  not  be 
a  thousand  dollars  in  cash,  Mr.  Rising.  Five  hundred 
dollars  in  cash  would  pay  the  workmen,  and  pay  these 
New  York  bills  for  iron  and  for  fringes ;  and  I  can 
make  every  other  creditor  give  us  three  months'  time, 
till  we  can  deliver  these  dearborns  in  Peoria,  if  I  only 
have  your  name  in  the  firm,  or  the  name  of  any  other 
man  who  has  people's  confidence.  If  Woods  had  not 
run  away,  though  he  did  nothing  but  drink  and  swag 
ger,  I  would  not  have  been  here." 

Jasper  did  not  permit  himself  to  be  melted  by  the 
poor  man's  eagerness ;  but  as  he  talked,  he  thought 
perhaps  he  did  see  the  chance  for  the  boy  Oscar  which 
he  should  not  have  dared  to  look  for.  He  had  no  wish 
to  start  Oscar  in  life  without  a  handicraft.  "  Either  a 
handicraft,  or  a  liberal  profession,"  John  Hughitt  used 
to  say  ;  "  though  }TOU  never  work  a  day  in  either."  It 
had  only  been  as  a  temporary  thing  that  he  let  Oscar 
scrub  the  sides  of  cars ;  and,  for  himself,  it  was  only 


72  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

as  a  temporary  thing  that  he  was  keeping  books  in  the 
freight-house.  He  had  found  out,  from  the  beginning, 
that  Oscar  had  the  divine  tact  with  tools,  —  that  he 
was  deft  and  successful  in  handling  them ;  and  it  had 
been  to  him  merely  a  question  of  time  and  opportunity 
how  and  when  he  should  place  Oscar  in  some  form  of 
apprenticeship  which  might  make  him  master  of  a  craft, 
and  so,  to  all  intents,  master  of  the  world.  Perhaps 
that  time  had  come.  Jasper  would  not  encourage  Mr. 
Buffum ;  but  asked  him  if  he  could  bring  round  all  the 
papers  to  the  freight-depot  after  business  was  closed, — 
"  and,  Mr.  Buffum,  ask  your  foreman  to  come  too." 

For  Jasper  Rising  had  read  history  enough,  and  seen 
business  enough,  and  watched  enough  failure  and  suc 
cess,  to  believe  in  men,  more  than  he  did  in  plans  or 
compacts,  or  an}'thing  else  on  paper.  And  }'et  fur 
ther,  he  guessed,  and  he  guessed  rightry,  that  the  crisis 
of  the  Buffum  carriage-factory  depended  not  on  Mr. 
Buffum,  so  sensitive  and  nervous,  nor  on  the  ideal 
capitalist  yet  to  be  discovered,  but  that  it  depended  on 
this  Dundas,  the  foreman,  who  had  or  had  not  given  a 
reputation  to  their  work,  and  who  would  or  would  not 
give  reputation  to  it  in  the  future.  So  he  asked  for 
Mr.  Dundas,  as  well  as  the  Peoria  orders,  and  the 
Cleveland  contracts,  and  the  other  pieces  of  paper. 

Dundas  came.  Jasper  liked  him,  and  he  liked  Jas 
per.  Piece  by  piece,  they  all  went  over"  every  bit  of  the 
tangled  histoiy  of  the  firm.  Piece  by  piece,  they  went 
over  f  he  work  still  possible.  The  hours  went  by  in  the 
dark  freight-station,  and  Jasper  sent  out  Oscar  for 
some  biscuit  and  a  jug  of  water  for  their  supper.  Eat 
ing  as  they  worked,  they  unravelled  the  tangle.  Then 
Dundas  and  Jasper  went  down  into  the  dark  b}'  them 
selves,  and  he  gave  to  Jasper  his  version  of  the  suc- 
and  failures  of  the  shop;  :md  .Jasper,  with  per 
fect  frankness,  told  both  of  them  why  he  dealt  with 
at  all.  lie  saw  with  pleasure  that  Dundas  took 
in  his  motive  and  plan  for  Oscar;  and.  at  the  least, 
they  underwood  r:;rh  other,  when,  at  midnight,  he  took 
such  papers  as  he  needed,  and  said  he  would  be  pre- 


OSCAR.  73 

pared  before  the  week  was  up  to  make  them  a  prop 
osition. 

He  spent  the  week  in  inquiry  and  consultation  with 
different  parties  concerned.  And  all  this  talk  and 
counter-talk  ended  in  the  establishment  of  a  new  car 
riage-building  firm,  of 

BUFFUM,  RISING  &  DUNDAS. 

Not  that  they  had  any  sign  painted.  They  had  no 
money  for  signs.  But  they  drew  up  the  papers.  They 
agreed  with  the  creditors  of  the  old  firm  ;  they  turned 
the  old  books  bottom  up,  and  began  at  the  end  of  them  ; 
they  had  the  old  bill-heads  altered  in  red  ink  by  Oscar. 
The  agreement,  in  brief,  was  this  : 

1.  Dundas   pledged   himself  personally  that  Oscar 
should  learn  all  of  the  wheelwright's  and  coach-build 
er's  craft  that  a  man  who  cared  to  know  could  learn 
between  the  ages  of  seventeen  and  twenty-one. 

2.  On  this  understanding,  Jasper  lent  two  hundred 
and  eleven  dollars  and  seventeen  cents  of  Oscar's  prop 
erty  to  the  new  firm,  —  securing  it  in  such  ways  as  he 
could,  but  considering  that  he  had  a  right  to  invest  it 
thus  as  the  premium  for  the  boy's  apprenticeship. 

3.  On  the  same  understanding,  he  paid  himself  into 
the  new  firm  three   hundred   and  fifty  dollars,  being 
very  much  the  major  part  of  his  own  earnings  during 
the  year. 

4.  All   three   principals   bound    themselves   not   to 
draw  a  penny  for  personal  expenses  from  the  new  firm 
for  six  months.     They  would  live  by  their  wits,  or  on 
their  relations,  rather  than  on  the  business. 

5.  The  new  firm  was  thus  able  to  buy  the  good  will 
of  the  old  firm  and  its  stock  in  trade,  with  the  right  of 
redemption  of  the  heavily  mortgaged  store,  and  to  re 
deem  some  of  the  most  essential    articles  seized   by 
creditors.      It   paid   four   or   five   hundred   dollars   in 
money,  and  it  gave  its  new  notes  at  four,  five,  six,  and 
seven  months.     Dundas  was  sure,  and  Rising  satisfied 


74  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

himself,  that  these  notes  could  be  met,  and  more  than 
met,  by  the  contracts  they  now  had  on  hand. 

I  suppose  the  transaction  was  one  which  no  probate 
court  in  the  world  would  have  authorized.  But  Jasper 
had  to  be  his  own  probate  court.  He  explained  it  to 
Oscar  as  well  as  he  could,  who  simply  said,  "  No  my 
money  ;  all  your  money."  And  when  he  found  that  he 
was  to  smooth  spokes  with  a  draw-shave,  instead  of 
washing  mud  off  cars,  Oscar  was  delighted.  Jasper 
kept  at  his  desk  in  the  freight-depot.  Only  he  spent 
three  hours  of  the  evening  at  the  counting-room  of  the 
new  linn,  writing  up  the  books,  acquainting  himself 
with  the  correspondents,  making  out  the  men's  ac 
counts,  and,  in  general,  learning  and  supervising  the 
new  business.  Oscar  always  sat,  with  some  book  or 
some  whittling,  at  his  side. 

Six  months  run  by  fast  when  every  one  is  so  busy. 
At  the  end  of  six  months  the  new  firm  was  on  its  feet. 
It  had  money  at  its  bank  ;  it  had  credit ;  it  was  in  fa 
vor  with  the  best  people  in  Eastern  Michigan  for  its 
thorough  work  and  neat  and  new  devices.  The  bank 
ing  and  business  world  had  forgotten  the  existence  of 
the  defunct  houses  of  Alters  &  Alters,  and  of  Wester- 
holm.  Bulfiim,  Rising,  &  Dundas  had  paid  the  notes 
with  which  they  bought  their  establishment;  had  even 
taken  up  some  of  them  before  the}'  were  due.  Credit 
is  a  plant  which  grows  rankly  and  fast,  by  the  same  to 
kens  and  by  the  same  laws  as  those  under  which  it  is 
so  easily  withered  and  destroyed. 

YVh:it  pleased  Jasper  most  in  the  success  was  the 
daily  development  of  Oscar.  Oscar  was  in  the  right 
place  at  last.  He  was  not  in  the  least  above  filing  iron, 
or  drilling  rivet-holes,- — not  he.  But  he  punched  and 
tiled  n;>t  ;is  ;i  slave,  luit  as  a  man  of  genius  compelling 
metal  to  obey  his  higher  purpose.  Did  yon  never  no 
tice  th-  diM'ercnce  between  the  way  in  which  a  sculptor 
chi-Hs  iiKirh'.e  in  hi.;  studio,  and  the  way  in  which  u 
stone-cutter,  \\ilh  tools  piwisely  like  the  other's,  cuts  a 
grave- -.tone  in  a  stone-yard  ?  There  is  that  diiibreuce 
•eu  the  way  in  which  a  child  of  God,  born  to  inven- 


OSCAB.  75 

tion  and  the  control  of  matter,  handles  his  wood  and 
his  iron,  and  the  drudgery  in  which  another  child  of 
God,  who  was  never  made  for  this  service,  lets  the  iron 
and  the  wood  master  him. 

And  after  some  months'  trial,  Jasper  left  his  friendly 
railroad-station  to  give  his  whole  time  to  the  corres 
pondence,  accounts,  travelling,  and  other  business  of 
the  new  firm.  Queer  enough,  his  last  service  in  the  sta 
tion,  after  he  had  bidden  them  all  good-by,  was  to  a 
person  he  had  seen  in  old  days,  if  he  had  remembered 
her.  The  afternoon  train  was  leaving,  and  an  Eastern 
party,  a  little  late,  hurried  into  it.  One  of  the  party,  a 
young  lady  encumbered  with  her  hand-baggage,  dropped 
a  parasol  as  she  stepped  up,  and  did  not  observe  it. 
Jasper  saw  it  fall,  sprang  forward,  tapped  at  the  win 
dow,  and  handed  it  to  her.  She  opened  the  window, 
took  it,  and  shyly  said,  "  Ich  Danke  ! "  But  Jasper 
saw  so  many  German  travellers,  that  even  this -did  not 
help  him.  "  Where  in  the  world  have  I  seen  her?  "  he 
said,  as  he  turned  away. 

But  she  remembered  him.  This  was  Bertha,  on  her 
way  to  Milwaukie  with  some  German  friends  of  a  friend 
of  her  uncle. 


76  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 


CHAPTER    IX. 

HOW   BERTHA  BEGAN. 

r  I  ^HE  most  astonishing  marvel  in  human  life  is,  I  sup- 
-  pose,  the  sudden  change  from  a  girl  to  a  woman. 
Boj-s  change  to  men  slowty.  The  change  with  them 
requires  from  five  to  ten  years.  And  colleges  were  in 
stituted  for  the  wise  oversight  and  conduct  of  the 
human  being  in  that  transition.  In  our  times  they  pre 
fer  to  wait  and  receive  3*oung  men,  to  send  them  out  a 
few  years  older.  But  a  girl  changes  into  a  woman  of  a 
sudden.  You  leave  her,  for  your  vacation  journey,  cut 
ting  out  paper  dolls,  and  mending  those  very  weak 
spots  where  their  dresses  meet  their  necks.  You  come 
home,  and  3^011  mistake  her  for  her  mother,  so  cautious 
and  thoughtful  is  she  ;  nay,  if  you  saw  a  gray  hair  or 
two,  you  might  mistake  her  for  her  grandmother.  I 
will  not  say  but  I  have  seen  this  change  from  girl  to 
woman  come  on  in  twenty-four  hours. 

When  Jasper  Rising  bade  Bertha  Schwarz  good-bv, 
at  the  warehouse  of  her  uncle  the  basket-dealer,  she 
was  a  German  girl,  who  spoke  English  very  badly,  and 
was  frightened  to  death  whatever  happened  or  did  not 
happen.  Nottwoyeicrs  after,  when  he  handed  her  par 
asol  into  the  open  window  of  the  railway  carriage,  and 
s.-iid  to  himself,  "Where  have  I  seen  her  before?"  she 
was  a  woman  as  completely  as  she  is  to-day,  —  in 
thought,  in  feeling,  in  bearing,  and  in  appearance. 
There  is  no  reason  to  wonder  that  Jasper  did  not  know 
her,  while  she  did  know  him.  If  dress  goes  for  much, 
1  am  by  no  means  certain,  that,  in  bidding  farewell  to 
his  short  railway  duties,  Jasper  was  not  wearing,  to  the 
last  thread  and  button,  the  same  travelling-suit  with 


HOW  BEETHA  BEGAN.  77 

which  he  went,  with  Bertha,  from  Boston  to  New  York 
two  3Tears  before.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  I  am  quite 
certain  that  Bertha  had  long  'since  doffed  the  quaint 
German  dress  which  the  fifteen-year-old  child  wore 
that  day,  and  that  the  most  brilliant  costume  of  the 
most  fashionable  promenade  of  Detroit  was  not  more 
distinguished  than  the  travelling-dresses  in  which  she 
and  all  the  ladies  of  the  party  were  arrayed.  And  in 
those  days  there  was  not  a  place  in  the  world  which 
ran  more  madly  into  the  matters  of  distinguished  cos 
tume  than  Detroit  did. 

For,  I  am  sorry  to  say  it,  our  poor  little  Bertha  had 
fallen  into  the  hands  of  some  people  who  had  plenty  of 
spending-monej7,  and  did  not  know  how  to  spend  it. 
Such  people  infallibly  take  to  gambling  or  showy  dress, 
or  both  ;  perhaps  both  are  the  same  disease,  with  only 
a  change  in  the  symptoms  or  the  name.  I  say  Bertha 
had  fallen  into  their  hands.  Not  that  they  had  sent 
out  strong  ruffians  into  the  streets  of  New  York,  who 
had  seized  her  behind,  put  a  sponge  of  chloroform  to 
her  nose,  and  carried  her  into  the  Astor  House,  where 
two  other  stout  men  with  pistols  and  three  glaring 
women  with  diamonds  made  her  promise  to  serve  them 
for  forty-seven  years  without  lifting  her  voice  above  a 
whisper.  I  observe  in  the  weekly  newspapers  long  sto 
ries  founded  on  such  transactions,  generally  with  a 
large  picture  on  the  first  page.  But  I  have  never  met 
such  events  in  my  life,  —  nor  did  Bertha  in  her  life. 
And  at  the  time  of  which  I  write  chloroform  had  not 
been  invented.  Nor  were  the  properties  of  sulphuric 
ether  known,  unless  by  Dr.  Jackson,  and  he  had  not 
yet  mentioned  them.  What  I  mean  when  1  say  that 
Bertha  had  fallen  into  their  hands  is,  that  she  had 
agreed  to  go  to  the  "West  with  these  people  to  be  a  sort 
of  home  governess  to  their  children  for  a  year  at  least, 
and  to  render  such  other  services  as  might  be  expected 
of  a  young  lady  in  their  family.  Mrs.  Rosenstein,  the 
head  of  the  clan,  chose  to  regard  her,  in  externals,  as  a 
sort  of  adopted  niece  ;  and  although  she  did  not  abso 
lutely  buy  all  her  frocks  and  bonnets,  she  did  supervise 


78  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

such  purchases,  made  such  additions  as  she  chose,  and 
kept  Bertha  looking  very  much  like  the  rest  of  her  train, 
—  with  such  rebellions  on  Bertha's  part  as  I  shall  try  to 
describe. 

All  this  had  come  about,  not  unnaturally,  in  the  time 
which  had  passed  since  we  left  little  Bertha,  as  she  was 
then,  playing  Mozart  at  the  musical  party  at  Kauf- 
mann  Baum's  in  Orange.  That  visit  at  Orange,  of  her 
mother  and  brother  and  herself,  proved  to  be  a  long 
one.  And  it  was  wholly  satisfactory  all  round.  The 
lame  boy  got  quite  well.  Mrs.  Schwarz  and  Mrs. 
Baum  ceased  to  be  afraid  of  each  other,  —  and  at  no 
period  despised  each  other.  This  is  a  great  point  to 
gain,  when  two  women,  b}'  no  agency  of  their  own,  are 
brought  into  very  close  personal  relationships.  Mrs. 
Baum  was  not  in  the  least  "  stuck  up,"  as  our  expres 
sive  local  phrase  has  it,  by  the  prettiness  of  her  house, 
or  the  prosperity  of  her  husband.  Mrs.  Schwarz  was 
as  simply  and  sweetly  herself,  in  the  unwonted  circum 
stances  of  life  at  Orange,  as  she  would  have  been  were 
she  singing  in  the  village  church  in  Lauenburg.  And 
thus  it  came  about,  to  the  great  delight  of  Kaufmann 
Baum,  that  as  the  two  sisters  sat  together  in  the  long 
mornings  of  that  summer  visit  in  the  pretty  house  at 
Orange,  and  as  they  rode  together  in  the  afternoons, 
and  as  the}r  sat  on  the  piazza  in  the  evenings,  they 
came  to  rely  on  each  other  very  thoroughly)  and  to 
love  each  other  with  a  very  genuine  love.  It  was  by 
no  means  manufactured  as  a  sort  of  duty-love  by  a 
certain  law,  for  persons  who  in  that  law  were  sisters. 
As  for  Bert  ha,  or  Thekla  as  Baum  still  called  her  nine 
times  out  of  ten,  her  place  had  been  sure  next  his 
he-art,  and  his  wile's  heart,  and  everybody's  heart  from 
the  beginning. 

Of  course  that  visit  ended.  As  I  say,  the  lame  boy 
got  thoroughly  well,  his  broken  leg  hardly  a  perceptible 
shade  shorter  than  the  other.  AVith  real  grief  on  both 
sides  they  parted.  But  Bertha  was  to  come  back  at 
Christmas,  —  and  she  did  come.  And  she  came  again 
at  Kaster.  And  if  Kaui'iiiaiui  and  his  wife  could  have 


HO  W  LEE  Til  A  BEGAN.  7  i) 

brought  it  about,  by  keeping  up  all  the  festivals  of  Lu 
ther's  calendar,  or  of  anybody's  calendar,  they  would 
have  had  a  new  visit  from  Bortha  at  Whit-Sunday,  and 
at  Martinmas  and  Michaelmas,  and  on  St.  Bertha's 
day  and  St.  Wilhelm's  day  and  St.  Kaufmann's  day. 
Whenever  a  decent  excuse  could  be  made,  they  had  a 
long  visit  from*  Bertha.  And  Bertha  grew  to  feel  her 
self  quite  as  much  at  home  in  Orange  as  she  was  in 
Boston. 

It  was  while  she  was  on  one  of  these  visits  in  Orange 
that  Bertha  the  child  became  Bertha  the  woman,  'by 
that  sudden  marvel  of  which  I  have  spoken.  The 
novelists  talk  of  the  slow  unfolding  of  the  bud  of  a 
rose  when  they  describe  this  phase.  I  have  seen  rose 
buds  unfold  very  slowly,  when  they  were  trying 
to  open  themselves  in  late  October.  On  the  other 
hand,  I  have  left  a  morning-glory  bud  tight  twisted 
when  I  went  to  bed  at  eleven  o'clock,  and  when  I  was 
on  my  piazza  at  five  the  next  morning  I  have  found  it 
in  the  fullest  glorj-  and  beauty  of  its  life.  I  do  not 
mean  to  say  that  Bertha  looked  like  a  morning-glory, 
but  I  do  mean  to  say  that  her  change  from  girlhood  to 
womanhood  was  almost  as  sudden.  And  so  it  hap 
pened —  of  course,  for  these  people  lived  in  America  — 
that  Bertha  began  to  occupy  herself  with  thoughts  as 
to  what  she  could  do  to  earn  her  own  bread  and  butter, 
her  cotton,  woollen  and  linen,  and  withal  her  shelter 
over  her  head.  That  is  to  sa}%  she  began  to  think  that 
she  must  not  live  at  her  father's  charge  any  longer,  nor 
at  her  uncle's,  and  to  look  with  an  inquiring  look  upon 
the  shop-girls  who  sold  her  tape  and  needles,  and  to 
wonder  how  they  got  their  places,  and  who  hired  them. 
She  looked  with  a  supreme  admiration  upon  the  school 
mistresses,  called  "  teachers,"  in  the  public  school  where 
her  brothers  went.  But  she  did  not  aspire  to  a  destiny 
so  ennobled  as  theirs.  J"o  her  father  and  mother  she 
knew  she  should  never  dare  to  speak  or  to  write  of 
these  tlaj'-dreams.  But  none  the  less  did  she  dream 
them  ;  and  she  was  soon  resolved  that  they  should  not 
be  always  dreams,  but  should  become  realities. 


80  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

So  she  opened  her  mind  one  day  to  her  Aunt  Mar}7, 
as  they  were  taking  a  brisk  walk  together.  She  could 
speak  to  her  Aunt  Mary  a  great  deal  easier  than  to  her 
mother  about  such  things.  She  made  rather  a  botch 
of  it ;  but  it  amounted  to  this,  that  she  knew  her  father 
and  mother  had  a  hard  time  of  it,  and  that  she  felt  that 
she  ought  to  help  them  ;  and  though  her  father  had  never 
said  a  word  to  her  about  it,  and  never  would,  she  could 
not  but  feel  it  was  quite  time  that  a  great  girl  like  her 
should  be  earning  something.  "  I  am  sure,  Aunt  Mar}-, 
that  I  see  plenty  of  girls  here,  who  are  no  bigger  than 
I  am,  and  who  do  not  know  any  more,  alas  !  than  I  do, 
who  must  earn  their  living,  for  they  have  no  one  else  to 
earn  it  for  them." 

By  this  time  Bertha  spoke  English  ver}r  accurately, 
though  she  had,  of  course,  a  well  defined  Lauenburg 
accent. 

Aunt  Mary  heard  her  all  through,  without  interrupt 
ing  her  ;  na}*,  perhaps  not  helping  her  as  much  as  Ber 
tha  would  have  wished  her  to  help.  But  when  Bertha 
worked  through,  occasionally  breaking  into  some  excla 
mations  in  German,  her  aunt  said : 

"  Oh,  dear !  my  poor  little  Thekla.  I  knew  you 
would  come  to  this  some  da}*,  but  I  did  not  think  it 
would  come  so  soon  !  " 

"  Why,  what  do  you  mean,  dear  auntie?" 

"  Mean,  darling  ;  I  mean  that  I  went  through  all  this 
when  I  was  sixteen,  —  and  I  suppose  dear  Margaret 
went  through  it  when  she  was  sixteen,  —  and  that  I 
knew,  of  course,  that  you  must  go  through  it  too  ;  but 
J  did  not  think  it  was  quite  time,  I  hoped  it  would  not 
worry  you  quite  }~et.  IIow  old  are  you, darling?" 

Bertha  said  stoutl}r  that  she  was  seventeen.  Aunt 
Mary  laughed  : 

"  As  if  I  did  not  know  all  about  it.  As  if  we  did 
not  hoar  all  about  the  birthday  party,  the  week  after 
Thanksgiving,  —  that  must  be  now  four  months  ago. 
My  little.  Theklein  is  sixteen  years  old  plus  four  months, 
and  that  she  calls  'almost  seventeen.'" 

"Well,  my  dear  auntie,  I  am  as  big  as  most  of  the 


HO  W  BEE  THA  BEGAN.  8 1 

girls  of  seventeen  whom  I  know.  I  am  really  too  tall 
to  have  it  decent  for  me  to  dance  where  other  people 
are  dancing.  I  am  ashamed  of  myself,  I  am  so  tall." 

"And  so  we  must  go  to  work,  because  we  are  too  big 
to  dance ;  —  what  a  hard  world  it  is,  to  be  sure,  in  its 
demands  on  us." 

"Oh!  please  do  not  laugh,  —  pray  do  not  laugh, — 
dear  Aunt  Mary  ;  if  I  were  not  so  stupid,  I  could  make 
you  understand  how  I  feel,  and  what  I  think  I  could  do. 
.Of  course  I  know  I  cannot  teach  geometry  and  trig- 
Vnometry,  and  all  those  grand  things,  as  Miss  Birdsail 
does  ;  but  I  know  I  can  teach  little  children  things  they 
have  to  know,  —  I  can  teach  quite  as  well  as  Sarah 
Stone  can.  Or,  if  it  seemed  best,  if  the  way  opened,  I 
can  keep  accounts,  just  as  well  as  Mary  Billings  can." 

"  Darling,  dear,  do  you  not  suppose  that  I  knew  all 
that,  —  and  that  you  sing  better  than  anybody  within 
ten  miles,  and  play  better,  and,  for  that  matter,  do 
everything  better  ;  and  best  of  all,  that  you  love  your 
auntie  as  nobody  does  within  ten  miles,  and  that  she 
loves  you  as  she  loves  nobody  but  her  children  ?  " 

Of  course  Bertha  knew  that  every  word  of  this  was 
minted  from  God's  own  truth,  and  she  just  turned  half 
round,  and  looked  her  full-eyed  thankfulness  ;  but  she 
would  not  be  bribed  even  by  tenderness  from  her  pur 
pose,  only  this  time  she  went  on  speaking  in  German. 

"  My  dear  little  aunt,"  she  said,  in  the  pretty  phrase 
in  that  language  which  Aunt  Mary  loved  so  well  to 
hear,  "  do  I  not  know  this  last  better  than  you  can  tell 
me  ?  But  you  shall  not  lure  me  and  coax  me  from  what 
I  have  resolved  upon,  —  and  you  love  me  too  well  not 
to  give  me  counsel,  now  I  ask  you  for  it.  I  do  not  ask 
you  whether  I  ought  to  help  my  dear  father  and  my  dear 
mother.  For  I  know  I  ought  to.  And  also,  dear  little 
aunt,  whatever  you  think,  I  know  I  can.  What  I  ask 
you,  then,  is  not  about  either  of  these  two  things,  for 
you  see  they  are  all  settled.  I  ask  you  how  I  am  to  do 
it.  That  is  all !  " 

"  Yes,  darling,  yes,"  said  Aunt  Mary,  almost  in  a 
dream,  —  for  in  truth  her  own  girlhood  there  in  Hius- 
6 


82  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

dale  was  all  coming  back  to  her  as  the  eager  child  spoke, 
—  "yes,  darling,  yea ;  and  I  will  come  to  that  pres 
ently.  But  my  little  love,"  —  for  they  were  still  speaking 
in  German,  —  "have  }T>u  thought  of  this,  —  which  is 
what  most  girls  forget,  —  have  you  thought  of  how 
much  help  3-011  are  now  to  your  father  and  your  mother, 
and  TVil.  and  my  dear  Fritz,  and  all?  Do  not  forget 
that  it  is  a  great  deal  for  your  father  to  be  free  from 
every  bit  of  responsibility  about  the  accounts,  about  his 
bills  and  other  people's  bills,  and  a  great  deal  for  dear 
Margaret  to  be  free  from  all  thought  about  the  chil 
dren's  bibs  and  tuckers.  And  what  1113-  little  Rosebud 
is  ever  to  do  without  you,  I  am  sure  I  do  not  know." 

uDo  not  break  my  heart,  dear  auntie;  —  all  this  I 
have  thought  of,  yes,  even  of  Rosebud  I  have  thought, 
and  how  I  should  ever  live  without  the  little  darling. 
But  you  see^  it  all.  I  am  here  to-day,  and  Rosebud 
lives,  though  I  know  she  is  counting  the  days  till  I  re 
turn.  As  for  the  accounts,  and  all  that,  my  dear  father 
brags  of  it  and  makes  much  of  it.  The  truth  is,  that 
it  is  not  much  in  reality  an}*way,  and  "Wil.  can  do 
it  all,  as  well  as  I ;  and  it  would  be  good  for  him  to 
do  it  too.  For  the  bibs  and  tuckers,  auntie,  —  see  here." 
And  Bertha  really  opened  her  little  Hamburg  leather 
memorandum-book  as  they  walked,  and  .showed  Aunt 
Mary  the  careful  account  where  she  had  recorded  all 
the  family  sewing  which  she  had  done  in  six  months. 
It  footed  up  one  hundred  and  seventy  hours,  nil  told. 
"  See,  dear  auntie,"  said  the  eager  girl,  who  had,  as 
it  was  clear,  gone  over  her  whole  ground  before  she 
spoke  si  word,  u  only  sec;  here  are  not  twent}'  da}*s* 
work  of  i\  hired  seamstress.  My  mother  could  hire  a 
girl  for  fifteen  dollars  to  do  all  the  sewing  I  have  done 
in  six  months.  Surely  my  work  might  be  worth  more 
than  lift  ecu  dollars."  Clearly  enough,  Bertha  had 
thought  the  whole  matter  through,  and  so  Aunt  Mary 
plainly  saw. 

She  did  not  in  the  least  discourage  her.  She  told 
her  she1  would  herself  write  to  Bertha's  father  and 
mother,  by  way  of  giving  her  countenance  to  the  plan. 


IIOW  BERTHA  BEGAN.  83 

She  told  her  that  she  must  accustom  herself  tlBie  idea 
of  work  that  was  hard,  —  and  worse  than  that,  work 
which  was  lonely ;  but  she  found  that  Bertha  had 
thought  all  that  over  ;  and  could  tell  her,  by  a  spirit  of 
prophecy,  a  good  deal  which  Aunt  Mary  was  talking  of 
as  only  learned  by  experience.  Aunt  Maiy  knew  a 
great  many  things  which  Bertha  did  not  know.  But 
Bertha  had  had  one  experience  of  which  Aunt  Maiy 
knew  nothing.  She  had  changed  her  country.  In  that 
experience,  even  while  she  was  a  girl,  she  had  gained  a 
curious  double  view  of  the  world.  As  the  astronomers 
would  say,  she  had  got  a  second  observation,  with  a 
considerable  parallax.  So  there  were  many  things 
which  Aunt  Mary  had  only  learned  as  a  woman,  which 
were  familiar  to  Bertha  as  a  child. 

And  so  that  visit  was  the  end  of  the  vacation  visits 
of  childhood,  —  unconscious,  and  without  count  of 
time.  From  this  time  forward  Bertha  also  is  a  person 
of  plans,  of  engagements  even,  who  counts  her  days 
and  weeks,  and  must  husband  time.  From  this  moment 
her  Dps  and  Downs  begin. 

She  went  back  to  Boston,  fortified  by  Aunt  Mary's 
letter,  and  saw  her  uncle  had  written  a  few  lines  with 
his  views.  To  tell  truth,  Uncle  Kaufmann,  who  had 
long  since  tried  to  transfer  her  wholly  to  his  larger 
and  more  prosperous  home,  and  had  failed  in  that,  saw 
certain  advantages  for  Bertha's  training  and  for  her  fu 
ture  in  the  new  and  wider  life  which  she  proposed, 
which  he  could  not  expect,  if  she  always  remained  un 
der  his  brother  Schwarz's  roof-tree.  Schwarz  was  a 
kind  father  and  an  honest  man.  But  he  was  one  of  the 
kind,  who,  at  Lauenburg  or  in  Boston,  would  be  much 
the  same  man,  —  and  in  a  new  world,  as  in  the  old,  he 
was  wholly  satisfied  with  his  little  house,  his  little 
trade,  his  little  round  of  pupils  in  music,  and  as  Kauf- 
inann  would  have  said,  his  little  life.  Now  Kaufmann 
knew  reverently,  as  has  been  alread}'  said,  that  in  Ber 
tha's  life  there  was  the  divine  genius  which  might  be  an 
eternal  joy  to  her  and  all  around  her,  or  which  might 
be  so  thwarted,  hemmed  in  and  pestered,  so  long 


84  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

as  thwfcfe  lasted,  that  she  should  grind  through  life  in 
grief  and  misery.  And  without  looking  far  into  the  fu 
ture,  Kaufmann  Baum  believed,  that,  for  the  scope  and 
power  of  this  divine  genius,  it  were  better  that  Bertha 
should  not  live  alwaj's  in  the  restrictions  of  her  father's 
habits  and  home.  So,  when  he  was  consulted,  he  gave 
his  cordial  assent  to  the  scheme  of  her  "working  for 
her  living,"  to  take  the  phrase  which  the  new-fledged 
"  work-woman  "  herself  employed. 

So  it  was,  that,  not  very  long  after  Bertha's  return, 
when  one  da}T  a  friend  of  Baum's  came  into  his  count 
ing-room,  and  asked  him  if  he  could  recommend  to  a 
friend  of  his  at  the  West  a  good  girl  who  could  teach 
his  little  children  the  rudiments  of  music,  Bertha's 
uncle  of  course  thought  of  her  and  named  her.  The 
fitting  correspondence  passed  on  both  sides.  The  West 
ern  "  friend  "  was  Mr.  Rosenstein.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  were 
to  be  at  Saratoga  before  long,  and  it  was  agreed  that 
Bertha  should  be  sent  up  to  them  to  meet  them  at  the 
United  States  Hotel  there.  Do  not  let  us  do  Mrs. 
Baum  injustice  ;  let  us  acknowledge  that  in  the  corres 
pondence  she  saw  the  vulgar  purse-pride  which  we  have 
since  learned  to  designate  by  the  word  shodd}', —  a 
word,  by  the  way,  which  originally  denotes  a  very  use 
ful  material,  which  may  be  applied  in  a  perfectly  legit 
imate  way.  Mrs.  Baum  probably  knew,  from  the  mere 
choice  of  Mrs.  Rosenstein's  note-paper,  and  the  method 
in  which  she  used  sealing-wax,  just  what  type  of  person 
she  was,  as  well  as  she  knew  it  ten  years  afterward.  I 
have  no  doubt  she  told  Kaufmann.  And  I  have  no 
doubt  that  he  said  that  that  was  the  fortune  of  war,  — 
that  if  Bertha  meant  to  be  a  teacher  she  must  take  her 
chance,  —  that  there  were  worse  things  than  mere  vul 
garity  in  the  world,  —  and  that,  in  a  republic,  the  chil 
dren  even  of  vulgar  people  had  a  right  to  an  education. 
And  so  it  was  that  poor  Bertha  made  her  debut  in  the 
new  part  of  the  "  maid  who  earns  her  living,"  as  she 
was  welcomed  by  the  exuberant  and  overacted  tender 
ness  of  Mrs.  Rosenstein  in  her  own  "  private  parlor  " 
at  the  great  United  States  Hotel. 


110  W  BERTHA  BEGAN.  85 

The  Rosensteins  made  a  long  business  of  th^r  jour 
ney  West.  They  had  to  make  a  long  stay  at  Niagara. 
Mr.  Rosenstein  made  rather  mysterious  visits  thence 
into  one  and  another  region  of  Upper  Canada,  as  it 
was  then  called.  Let  me  hope  he  was  not  making  ar 
rangements  for  smuggling.  Thejr  came  to  Detroit  by 
steamboat ;  and  Mrs.  Rosenstein  had  a  very  terrible 
time  on  the  lake,  and  her  health  was  such  that  she  had 
to  lie  by  at  Detroit  at  the  best  hotel  for  two  or  three 
days  to  repair  damages.  You  would  have  said  that  the 
shopping  of  Detroit  could  have  had  but  little  attraction 
for  a  lady,  who,  within  a  month,  had  exhausted  the 
novelties  of  Broadway.  But  that  is  because  you  are  a 
reader  too  gentle  to  know  what  are  the  temptations  of 
shopping,  as  shopping,  to  people  who  do  not  know  what 
money  is  for.  And,  for  that  matter,  there  were  things 
in  those  da}'s,  in  which  the  ladies  and  gentlemen  of 
Detroit  showed  quite  as  much  extravagance  as  even 
New  York  or  Paris  showed.  So,  in  spite  of  Mrs.  Ros- 
enstein's  prostration  of  nerves,  she  had  to  have  a  car 
riage  every  da}r,  and  go  to  Tom's  or  Dick's  or  Harry's 
to  make  good  the  necessary  stores  in  some  article  of 
prime  utility  before  they  were  banished  to  that  "  dread 
ful  Milwaukie." 

So  was  it,  in  fact,  that  they  came  late  to  the  railway 
station,  and  had  to  hurry  to  the  train.  Then  was  it 
that  Bertha  dropped  her  parasol,  and  that  Jasper 
picked  it  up  and  returned  it  to  her,  as  has  been  already 
said  and  sung. 

The  chapter  cannot  end  better  than  by  an  illustra 
tion  from  the  ride  which  followed,  of  what  the  Rosen- 
steins  were,  and  their  children,  and  of  Bertha's  success 
in  her  new  role. 

The  very  moment  after  Bertha  thanked  Jasper  for 
the  parasol,  the  little  train  began  to  move,  —  how  un 
like  the  giant  serpents,  as  one  is  tempted  to  call  them, 
—  the  long  convoys  which  move  out  so  often  now  on 
the  Michigan  Central  or  the  Michigan  Southern.  Shrill 
and  loud  in  the  first  clatter  of  motion  rose  the  voice  of 
Mrs.  Rosenstein,  not  yet  seated. 


8G  ITS  AXD  DOWXS. 

k- I  told  you  we  should  In-  late,  Fr:inx  ;  I  knew  the 
driver  did  not  know  the  wa_y.  1  was  sure  he  should 
have  turned  down  by  the  distillery."  Then  without 
waiting  lor  an  answer,  "  Set  down  that  basket  airy- 
where,  Ferdinand,  and  come  back  to  me.  No,  —  not 
on  that  scat,  —  put  it  where  we  can  see  it.  I  cannot 
sit  there,  I  must  have  two  ;  eats  together.  Perhaps 
these  people  will  move  to  the  other  side.  Why,  is  this 
where  the  sun  comes  in  ?  I  can  never  ride  on  the  sunny 
side.  It  is  a  shame  the  car  should  be  so  jammed  up 
with  people.  Go  and  tell  them,  Franz,  that  they  must 
put  on  another  car  !  " 

Franz  was  not  a  hired  servant,  as  the  reader  may 
suppose,  but  the  husband  of  Mrs.  Rosenstein  ;  and  was 
capable,  in  his  own  wa}T,  of  displays  quite  equal  to 
hers  of  his  own  very  cheap  and  worthless  personality. 

At  last,  b}T  infinite  negotiations,  two  sets  of  double 
seats  were  secured,  one  on  the  shady  side,  one  on  the 
sunny  side.  The  shad}r  side  was  occupied  by  Mrs. 
Rosenstein  and  her  daughter  Adelaide ;  a  little  dog 
was  in  front,  also  a  tall  wicker-basket  from  which  a 
fuchsia-bud  appeared,  two  travelling-bags,  a  large  lunch 
basket  from  which  a  black  glass  bottle-ne'ck  protruded, 
a  camp-stool,  two  parasols,  an  umbrella,  and  Franz's 
fishing-rods.  The  sunny  side  was  occupied  l^  Bertha 
and  her  charge,  Master  Ferdinand  Rosenstein,  Theresa 
and  Charlotte.  They  had  under  their  feet  a  good  deal 
of  pert  able  higgjige,  and  each  of  them  sonic  piece  of 
the  day's  spoils  in  shopping  in  hand. 

After  the  train  was  well  in  motion,  so  that  the  ex 
citement  of  the  entrance  was  a  little  subsided,  it  ap 
peared  on  an  inquiry  for  papa  thai  he  had  gone  forward 
to  smoke.  Mrs.  Rosenstein  and  Adelaide  refreshed 
themselves,  with  a  good  deal  of  parade,  from  some 
sherry  that  was  in  {he  black  bottle,  and,  with  a  good 
deal  of  fuss,  each  ate  an  orange.  This  physical  duty 
done,  Mrs.  Rosenstein  felt  that  it  was  time  for  her  to 
di.>j)!::y  to  the  travellers,  —  most  of  whom  were1  .^lock- 
raisers  returning  from  a  great  sale  of  cattle,  —  the  true 
elegance  of  her  breeding  and  her  indifference  to  ex- 


HOW  BERTHA  BEGAN.  87 

pense.  So  she  swayed  forward  to  the  other  party,  and 
said,  serenely  this  time,  u  Where  is  that  little  jewelry 
parcel,  —  who  took  that?  Is  it  possible  that  we  left  it 
on  the  counter?  Oh,  no!  dear  Lotty ;  not  that  one, 
those  are  only  some  little  articles  of  vertu.  I  mean 
the  jewelry,  not  from  Black's,  —  he  is  at  New  York,  — 
but  from  this  man's.  For  such  a  place  as  Detroit,  they 
were  astonishingly  pretty." 

"Dear  mamma,  you  took  them  yourself;  the}T  are 
in  j'our  gray  bag." 

"Did  I,  my  love?  I  think  not.  I  could  not  have 
taken  them,  you  know." 

But  it  proved  that  she  could  and  did.  A  thorough 
excavation  conducted  in  the  gray  bag,  under  the  direc 
tion  of  Bertha  and  Charlotte,  exhumed  from  various 
parcels  of  ribbons,  confectionery,  patterns,  and  trash 
generally,  two  neat  jewellers'  boxes,  on  which  Mrs. 
Rosenstein  descended.  Of  course  she  opened  the 
wrong  one  first,  that  it  might  produce  its  full  effect  on 
the  drowsy  grazier  opposite.  Of  course  she  found  it 
was  wrong,  and  she  said,  "  Oh,  no  !  not  that  of  course 
—  amethysts  are  not  what  we  want  now,  of  course. 
That  is  not  what  I  am  thinking  of,  my  sweet.  Can 
not  }*ou  guess  what  I  am  thinking  of?  Such  an  uncon 
scious,  simple  little  toad  as  you  are  !  " 

Bertha  was  undoubtedly  flattered  that  she  was  called 
a  toad  so  loudly  and  affectionately.  She  must  have 
felt  much  more  pleased,  when  Mrs.  Rosenstein,  with  a 
jerk,  opened  the  other  box,  and  disclosed  a  pretty 
enough  simple  bracelet  —  gold  —  or  gilt,  as  the  case 
ma}-  have  been.  She  lifted  it  out  with  due  ejacula 
tions,  and  said,  "I  am  sure  nry  sweet  child  knew  who 
it  was  bought  for.  Such  a  pretty  circle  belongs  only 
on  a  pretty  arm.  Slip  up  that  sleeve  my,  dear  ; "  and 
so,  to  poor  Bertha's  disma}',  not  to  say  disgust,  the 
bracelet  was  clasped  with  an  audible  snap  on  her  arm. 
"  Sweets  to  the  sweet,  nry  child,  —  and  prcttys  to  the 
pretty ;  that  is  what  I  say.  No  !  not  a  word,  —  noth 
ing  could  be  more  pretty  or  becoming.  The  moment  I 


88  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

saw  it  in  the  case,  I  said,  '  That  bracelet  only  belongs 
on  our  dear  Bertha's  arm.' " 

Dear  -Bertha  could  not  help  remembering  that  the 
sweet  bracelet  had  been  the  cause  of  a  most  disgraceful 
fight,  or  haggle,  between  Mrs.  Rosenstein  and  the  jew 
eller.  But  this,  Mrs.  Rosenstein  herself  had  fortu 
nately  forgotten.  She  sailed  back  to  her  own  seat  in  the 
pride  of  a  brilliant  debut  before  the  graziers  and  other 
herdsmen.  There  was  no  part  in  which  she  cast  her 
self  so  often  as  that  of  the  "  Affectionate  Patron." 

The  effect  of  the  debut  was  a  little  dashed,  however, 
by  her  finding  that  Adelaide  had  taken  advantage  of 
her  temporary  absence  to  arrange  the  shawls  for  a  nap, 
and  had  even  lost  herself  in  sleep  already.  Mrs  Rosen 
stein  missed  the  chance  of  serenely  commanding  that 
another  seat  should  be  cleared  for  her,  by  saying  before 
she  knew  it : 

"  What !  are  you  asleep  again  ?  You  sleep  all 
the  time.  If  you  choose  to  go  to  sleep,  don't  muss  up 
my  Canton  crape,  —  and  do  have  some  mere}'  on  your 
own  bonnet.  A  hat  that  cost  fifty  dollars  mashed  like 
that !  Get  up,  }rou  lazy  girl ;  get  up,  and  sit  up,  if  you 
can ;  and  do  give  some  thought  sometime  to  your 
mother !  " 

The  high  corned}'  of  "  The  Affectionate  Patron  "  was 
followed,  without  drop-scene,  by  this  little  selection 
from  the  farce  of  "  Mamma  in  a  Rage." 


HONEST  WOEK.  89 


CHAPTER  X. 

HONEST    WORK. 

new  carriage-building  firm  of  Buffum,  Rising, 
•  &  Dundas,  worked  its  way  into  notice  and  success, 
not  too  rapidly,  but  very  certainly.  A  good  combina 
tion  is  honest,  well-informed  determination,  which  was 
here  represented  by  Jasper ;  sensitive  idealism,  which 
was  represented  by  Buffum ;  and  practical,  shifty  com 
mon-sense,  with  experience  in  the  handling  of  things, 
which  was  represented  by  Dundas.  In  truth,  the  part 
ners  in  a  firm,  or  in  other  partnership,  as,  for  instance, 
the  matrimonial  alliance,  succeed  best  when  they  are 
not  much  like  each  other.  Jasper  was  constantly 
teaching  certain  lessons  to  his  hands,  to  his  customers, 
and  to  those  from  whom  he  bought  material,  which  did 
the  firm  good,  and,  in  the  end,  raised  its  reputation. 
Old  Edgar,  a  real  frontiers'-man,  almost  of  the  Natty 
Bumpo  type,  was  in  the  habit  of  paying  his  taxes,  and 
buj'ing  his  powder,  salt,  and  nails,  by  getting  out  every 
winter,  when  the  snow  was  deep,  a  load  or  two  of  wagon- 
spokes,  which  he  then  hauled  into  Detroit,  for  sale  to 
the  wheelwrights,  as  his  annual  sacrifice  on  the  altar 
of  civilization.  He  appeared  one  day  and  asked  for 
Dundas,  who  was  in  general  his  ally. 

"  Mr.  Dundas  is  out,  —  out  of  town.  Can  I  do  any 
thing  for  you  ?  " 

The  old  man  was  a  little  lost  at  having  a  new  face  to 
stud}T,  and  a  new  hand  to  deal  with.  Indeed,  he  did  not 
like  it,  more  than  the  Georgia  boy  liked  to  be  "  put  out 
to  a  strange  gal."  But  he  did  not  want  to  haul  the  load 
back  to  Clear  Rapids,  and  he  was  used  to  leaving  most 


90  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

• 

of  his  spokes  at  this  place.     So  with  a  great  effort  he 
stated  his  business. 

u  Oh,  it  is  Mr.  Edgar  !  "  said  Jasper.  "  I  am  very 
glad  to  see  you,  Mr.  Edgar ;  we  know  all  about  you 
here." 

This  encouraged  the  old  man  ;  and  in  a  remarkably 
short  time  he  got  through  with  the  necessary  introduc 
tory  preface,  about  the  freshets  and  the  drift-wood,  and 
the  deep  snow,  and  his  wife's  sore  throat,  and  the  gen 
eral  news  of  Clear  Rapids,  —  intelligence  all  of  which 
in  an  indefinite  wa}r  was  to  justify  him  in  asking  one 
dollar  and  a  half  a  hundred  more  for  his  spokes  than 
Buffum  &  Woods  had  ever  paid,  or,  indeed,  than  any- 
bod}T  in  Michigan  had  paid  for  spokes  till  that  hour. 

To  his  surprise,  he  found  that  Jasper,  instead  of  beat 
ing  him  down,  even  rose  on  the  price  which  he  pro 
posed. 

"  The  price  is  well  enough,  Mr.  Edgar,  if  the  spokes 
are  good  ;  and  you  never  sold  us  airy  unsound  wood 
yet." 

"  Come  and  look  at  them,"  was  all  the  old  man  said, 
with  a  modest  pride  which  was  in  itself  dignified. 

"  No,"  said  Jasper,  "  I  don't  want  to  see  them.  You 
are  a  better  judge  of  spokes  than  I  am ;  and,  if  I  did 
not  trust  you,  I  would  not  deal  with  you  at  all.  I  will 
tell  you  what  I  will  do.  How  many  spokes  have  you  ?  " 

The  old  man  said  that  in  the  two  loads  1  her*1  might  be 
a  matter  of  twenty-seven  hundred.  The  truth  was,  he 
knew  there  were  exactly  twenty-seven  hundred. 

u  Then,"  said  Jasper,  u  we  will  take  .five  hundred 
spokes;  but  you  shall  pick  them  out  3'ourself;  3^011 
shall  give  me  the  five  hundred  best  spokes  in  your 
w:igon,  and  I  will  give  you  thirty  dollars  for  the  lot  ; 
that  is  more  than  the  rate  3*011  have  lixrd  for  thorn." 

The  old  man  started,  and  said  he  was  not  used  to 
trading  in  that  way. 

""  No,"  said  Jasper,  "I  know  you  are  not ;  and  I  know 
it  will  take  some  time  to  unload  and  load  the  w;igon, 
and  to  pick  the  spokes  over.  For  that  1  rely  upon  you. 


HONEST  WOKE.  ^^  91 


and  for  that  I  pa}'  you.     You  shall  have 
men  help  3*011  unload  and  load." 

The  old  man  thought  it  over  and  agreed  ;  and  for 
the  next  three  hours  the  loafers  of  Detroit  who  passed 
that  way  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  the  process  of 
the  sorting  out  the  best  spokes  from  those  which  were  not 
absolut'ely  of  the  first  quality,  and  of  hearing  his  ex 
planations  of  the  principles  which  guided  his  selection. 
Whether,  with  his  diminished  load,  the  old  man  went 
to  all  the  other  wheelwrights  in  town,  and  sold  out  to 
them  at  the  price  he  originally  demanded,  it  is  not  our 
part  to  inquire.  Jasper  had  taught  all  his  men  that 
none  but  the  very  best  material  was  to  come  into  that 
shop  ;  and  this  was  one  important  step  towards  teach 
ing  them  that  none  but  the  very  best  work  was  to  go 
out  of  it. 

There  was  no  lack  of  occasions  for  the  repetition  of 
the  same  lesson.  Slack  work  is,  alas  !  so  common  in  a 
country  which  is  not  even  half  begun,  far  less  half  fin 
ished,  that  a  man  who  sets  himself  to  thorough  work, 
whether  it  be  in  finishing  wagons  or  in  collecting  taxes, 
will  find  he  is  ever}7  hour  arousing  the  surprise  of  those 
he  works  with.  Not  many  days  after  the  spoke  busi 
ness  with  Edgar,  a  wide-awake,  jaunty  young  fellow 
stepped  into  the  new  counting-room,  looked  round  with 
the  air  of  one  who  was  a  good  deal  more  at  home  than 
the  owners  of  the  establishment,  and  said  in  a  conde 
scending  way,  "Where's  Woods?" 

Now,  Woods  was  the  defaulting  partner  of  poor  Bufv 
film,  whose  sudden  departure  for  parts  unknown  had 
so  nearly  reduced  the  infant  carriage-factory  to  u  ever 
lasting  smash."  BufFum  could  not  bear  the  name.  If 
a  young  man,  handsome  in  exterior,  perfect  in  educa 
tion,  faultless  in  morals,  of  attractive  demeanor,  the 
descendant  of  a  long  line  of  noble  ancestors,  and 
authorized  to  draw  on  the  Bank  of  England  indefin 
itely  at  sight,  had  come  to  BufFum  and  hud  asked  per 
mission  to  pay  his  addresses  to  Rebecca  BufFum,  had 
that  young  man's  name  been  Woods,  Bulfum  would 
have  bidden  him  go  perish.  When,  therefore,  the 


92  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

affable  and  condescending  New-Yorker  asked  "  Where's 
Woods  ?  "  Buffum  would  not  even  be  civil  to  the  man, 
—  he  only  growled  out,  "  Don't  know." 

But  Jasper,  who  took  the  man's  measure  in  a  mo 
ment,  and  saw  the  patent-leather  bag  in  his  hand,— 
who  also  would  have  been  civil  to  Woods  himself,  or  to 
the  great  author  of  Woods's  misfortunes  perhaps,  had 
he  come  into  the  counting-room,  —  Jasper  looked  up 
and  said,  "  Mr.  Woods  has  left  this  firm.  The  last  we 
heard  of  him  he  was  on  his  way  to  Botany  Bay.  He  is 
probably  there  by  this  time,  if  he  has  not  yet  been 
hanged." 

The  stranger,  who  was  quite  indifferent  to  Woods's 
existence,  —  and  was,  as  the  books  say,  already  weary 
of  the  subject,  —  affably  said,  "Then  he  has  left  the 
firm.  I  only  called  on  the  firm,  —  had  no  acquaint 
ance  with  Mr.  Woods."  This  was  a  lie.  The  last 
time  he  had  been  in  Detroit,  Woods  had  taken  him  out 
in  his  own  buggy  to  a  miserable  drinking-house  where 
they  affected  to  have  a  trotting-park,  —  had  talked  big 
about  Fashion  and  Boston,  and  the  other  celebrities  of 
the  day,  —  from  such  careful  study  as  he  made  of  "  The 
Spirit  of  the  Times  "  every  Sunday ;  and  the  stranger 
who  was  now  dealing  with  Jasper  had,  then  and  there, 
pla}Ted  euchre  with  him  and  some  companions  they 
picked  up  there,  till  daybreak  the  next  morning. 

"  I  only  called  on  the  firm,"  said  he.  "  I  represent 
Tubalcain  Sons,  —  travel  for  their  New-York  house. 
Looked  in  to  see  what  3^011  want  in  our  line  this  spring. 
Looks  of  your  shop,  }rou  will  want  to  give  us  some 
large  orders." 

"  No,"  Mr.  Fortinbras,"  said  Jasper,  quietly,  "  we 
shall  not  have  any  orders  for  }'ou."  Buffum  went  on 
writing.  Uuffmii  km'\v  what  was  coining  ;  but  they  had 
h:id  Tnbalcain's  hardware  so  long  that  he  knew  lie 
should  never  have  had  the  nerve  to  break  the  thread. 
He  would  have  said  they  would  take  just  a  small  order 
this  timo,  with  a  hope  that  Tubalcain  Sons  would  die, 
or  the  runner  would  die,  or  that  possibty  he,  Buffum, 
would  die  before  another  visit  came  on.  But  Jasper 


HONEST  WORK.  93 

had  no  intention  of  dying,  or  of  having  any  question 
about  Tubalcain  Sons'  hardware. 

"  No,  Mr.  Fortinbras,  we  shall  not  have  any  orders 
for  }X)u,"  he  said  simply,  without  the  slightest  tone  or 
accent  from  which  the  agent  could  guess  why  the  accus 
tomed  yearly  order  was  withdrawn. 

But  Mr.  Fortinbras  was  not  timid,  nor  easily 
snubbed.  Had  he,  indeed,  been  a  man  of  Mr.  Buffum's 
nervous  make,  he  would  not  so  long  have  held  to  the 
career  of  a  travelling  salesman  for  the  New- York 
branch-house  aforesaid. 

"  But  you  have  not  seen  our  new  styles,  Mr. ," 

said  he.  And  he  rapidty  opened  a  marvellous  permuta 
tion,  double-combination,  triple-bolting  lock,  which  fast 
ened  the  patent-leather  bag.  "  I  want  to  show  you  — 
just  to  show  j'ou  —  the  patterns  which  our  Mr.  Sella 
got  up  after  his  last  visit  to  America.  You  know,  sir, 
that  those  English  makers  never  do  understand  our 
styles  till  they  have  seen  what  sort  of  a  country  this  is, 
—  great  cotmhy,  —  fast  country,  and  their  old  John- 
Bull  ways  will  not  quite  answer,  not  quite."  All  this 
very  volubly,  as  he  was  disinterring  from  the  bag  the 
card  on  which  were  sewed  the  patterns  in  question. 
"  Now  look  at  that,  sir.  See  how  neat  that  turn  is. 
Tubalcain  Sons  have  taken  out  patents  for  that  curved 
button  in  England  and  France,  and  have  applied 
in  Washington.  But  for  all  that,  we  make  no  change 
in  our  price  to  our  old  customers.  We  can  put  you  these 
buttons,  with  the  nuts  and  screws,  at  eleven  sixty-two 
the  gross  ;  the}'  cost  us,  without  saying  one  cent  of  the 
duty,  —  they  cost  us  nineteen  shillings  six  in  Lamech's 
Cross.  Lamech's  Cross,  you  know,  is  where  our  works 
are." 

Here,  in  despite  of  good  lungs,  Mr.  Fortinbras  had 
to  stop  for  breath ;  and  Jasper,  nothing  loth,  had  his 
turn. 

"If  they  cost  the  firm  nineteen  shillings  six, the  firm 
was  cheated,"  said  he  ;  "  that's  all."  And  he  opened  a 
wicked  little  drawer  in  his  desk,  and  began  taking  from 
it  old,  dirty,  rusty  bits  of  iron.  "  There's  one  of  Tu- 


94  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

balcain  Sons'  last  style  of  buttons.  It  broke  in  the 
shank  there,  without  the  strain  of  a  pound  on  it.  Bad 
stuff.  There's  one  of  Tubalcain  Sons'  screws.  The 
cutting  is  so  irregular,  that  3-011  can  see  it  is  wrong 
without  a  gauge.  There  is  one  of  their  nuts,  —  it  will 
not  turn  on  the  screw  nor  on  any  screw.  There  is 
a  side  spring  —  or  what  they  called  so  —  of  their  make. 
It  broke  in  the  workman's  hands  before  ever  the  car 
riage  went  out  of  our  shop.  Luckj-  that  for  us.  No, 
Mr.  Fortinbras,  I  don't  suppose  your  house  cares  much 
for  our  trade ;  but,  if  they  do,  you  can  tell  them  that 
they  had  better  go  back  to  the  traditions  of  old  English 
work,  —  pa3r  less  attention  to  styles,  and  more  to  the 
stuff  behind  them." 

"But,  Mr.  Buffmn!"  — 

"My  name  is  Rising,  sir,  —  this  is  Mr.  Bufliim." 

"I  beg  you  pardon,  Mr.  Rising  ;  of  course  we  have 
just  what  you  want.  We  know  our  market,  I  think, 
and  we  know  what  a  shop  needs  which  turns  out  first- 
class  work.  Those  styles,  —  well,  at  the  price  we  put 
them  at,  of  course  you  do  not  expect  actually  first- 
class  iron  or  work,  Mr.  Rising  ;  but  if  you  want,  why 
—  you  know  we  supply  the  very  tip-top  cit}-makers. 
Goddards,  Tolman  &  Russell,  Flint  &  Fergus,  the 
best  Philadelphia  men,  all  have  their  fancy  irons  from 
us.  Jnst  let  me  bring  3-011  some  cards  which  I  have  in 
nry  lodgings  ;  and  I  can  show  3*011  work  that  3*0111'  best 
Michigan  thorough-brcds  cannot  jerk  in  two." 

But  Jasper  was  pitiless.  His  business  then  was 
something  far  beyond  getting  good  iron  fancies  into 
tin- shop.  And  he  said  dryly,  u  No,  sir ;  we  will  not 
deal  with  vour  house.  You  have  sold  us  had  iron.  Of 
course  I  know  that  you  could  have  sold  us  good  iron. 
1  have  sent  my  own  orders  to  Ibbotson  Brothers,  and 
ni3r  own  goods  are  in  the  New-York  Custom-house  to 
day.  I  knew  I  was  dealing  there  with  men  whom  I 
could  trust  ;  and  J  told  them  so,  paid  a  good  price,  and 
1  did  nol  a.-k  lor  samples." 

Mr.  Forlinbras  tried  to  get  in  a  word  edgewise,  but 
it  would  not  answer.  Jasper  bowed  him  out,  and  he 


IIONEST  WOEK.  95 

•withdrew,  crestfallen.  Doubly  crestfallen  ;  for  he  had 
lost  his  order,  and,  more  than  this,  he  had  lost  the  ex 
pected  invitation  from  his  friend  Woods,  to  see  the 
Bantam  Mare  trot  against  Gen.  Cass  and  Old  Ilickoiy. 
And  though  Mr.  Fortinbras  had  not  expected  much 
amusement  from  this  spectacle,  he  had  looked  forward 
to  a  satisfactory  night  at  poker,  euchre,  or  whatever 
might  be  the  favorite  play  with  the  Red-Creek  fashion 
ables  that  3"ear.  All  these  hopes  were  disappointed  as 
Jasper  bowed  him  out  of  the  counting-room. 

"  Nowr,  Fergus,"  said  Jasper,  turning  to  a  bare- 
armed,  paper-capped  Scotchman  who  was  waiting  for 
him,  —  "  now  I  can  talk  to  you.  But  did  you  hear  what 
I  said  to  that  fellow  ?  " 

u  Why,  yes  ;  I  did,  sir,"  said  the  Scot,  not  quite  cer 
tain  whether  he  should  have  listened  to  a  counting-room 
conversation. 

"I  am  glad  you  did,  and  I  wish  every  man  in  the 
shop  could  have  heard  it.  For  what  it  means,  Fergus, 
is  this  :  that  we  will  not  have  any  poor  work  go  out  of 
this  shop.  Cheap  work  may  go  out  of  it,  veiy  often  ; 
and  I  hope  it  will.  I  hope  we  shall  make  such  wagons 
that  old  Edgar  himself  will  be  glad  to  buy  one  to  take 
his  wife  to  meeting  in.  They  shall  be  cheap,  because 
they  shall  be  the  best  he  can  get  for  his  money.  But 
tney  shall  not  be  cheap  because  they  have  bad  iron  in, 
nor  bad  leather,  nor  bad  work.  And  so  you  see,  Fer 
gus,"  —  and  here  Jasper's  voice  took  on  a  more  kind!}" 
tone,  —  u  so  }"ou  see,  that  is  the  answer  I  must  make 
to  j'ou  about  taking  your  poor  count ly man  into  the 
shop.  He  is  not  a  good  workman.  You  know  he  is 
not.  You  had  to  tell  me  he  was  not.  Now,  we  are  all  in 
one  boat.  Y"ou  and  Oscar  and  Smith  and  Walter  have 
just  as  much  reason  for  wishing  this  shop  to  have  a 
first-class  name  as  Dundas,  or  Mr.  Buffum  here,  or  I 
have.  None  of  us  can  afford  to  take  on  one  poor  work 
man,  —  more  than  we  can  afford  to  buy  that  poor  cock- 
nej-'s  slag  because  he  paints  it  and  patents  it,  and  calls 
it  iron.  To  tell  you  the  truth,  I  do  not  dare  take  on 
HacDonald. 


96  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

"  But  I'll  tell  you  what  I  have  done.  Edgar's  neigh 
bor  at  Clear  Rapids  was  here  yesterda}r,  trying  to  sell 
me  some  stuff.  I  told  him  that  I  had  a  man  I  wanted 
him  to  take  at  his  saw-mills.  You  know  I  was  brought 
up  to  lumbering,  and  he  likes  to  talk  with  me.  I  told 
him  of  MacDonald,  and  his  family ;  and  he  says  if  we 
will  wait  three  weeks,  he  will  put  up  a  house  for  them, 
and  Mac  shall  be  put  on  the  mill  as  one  of  the  night- 
gang.  And  then  if  he  is  good  for  anything,  he  shall 
work  his  way  up.  He's  good  pay,  and  honest  as  Bass 
Rock.  And  then,  Fergus,  if  you  like,  we  will  take  that 
boy  of  his  —  Andrew ,  do  you  call  him  ?  —  into  the 
shop,  on  the  same  terms  Oscar  is  working  at.  You 
shall  see  to  him  yourself,  and  you  shall  make  him,  be 
fore  you  are  done,  as  good  a  finisher  as  }'ou  are.  We 
can  get  along  with  boys  who  are  learning  ;  but  I  wrill 
not  risk  the  record  of  the  shop  on  men  who  have  never 
learned.  I  think  you  understand." 

Fergus  was  a  Scotchman,  as  I  have  said  ;  and  he  did 
understand.  What  is  more,  he  was  really  grateful. 
Mr.  Rising  had  done  a  great  deal  more  and  better  for 
his  poor  friend  than  he  had  proposed,  and  Fergus  had 
got  a  lesson  which  filtered  into  the  comprehension  of 
all  the  hands. 

Such  a  determination,  once  started  by  Jasper,  had 
been  taken  up  in  a  spirit  perfectly  kindly  by  both  his 
partners.  Buifum,  whom  one  is  always  tempted  to  call 
poor  Buifum,  —  so  frail  was,  in  his  case,  the  wicker-work 
around  the  glass  vessel,  if  one  may  borrow  the  conve 
nient  image  of  a  demijohn,  or  damajan,  to  denote  the 
make-up  of  his  life,  —  poor  Butfum  was  an  idealist, 
who,  but  for  such  friendly  stay  and  help  as  Jasper  was 
giving  to  him,  would  have  wholly  gone  to  the  wall. 
Because  he  was  an  idealist,  he  simply  exulted  in  the 
theory  of  perfect  work,  and  perfect  work  alone.  Dun- 
das  was  no  idealist.  He  was  simply  a  good  mechanic, 
well  trained.  He,  therefore,  simply  hated  bad  work, 
lie  hated  it  as  a  ^entleman  hati-s  to  hear  a  nasty  .story. 
He  hated  it  as  a  good  sewer  hates  to  see  bad  stitches, 
even  in  a  piece  of  work  where  bad  stitches  will  never 


HONEST  WORK.  97 

be  seen  again,  and  where  they  hold  the  cloth  together. 
He  hated  it  as  a  Latin  teacher  hates  to  hear  a  boy  say  : 
'"  Tres  partes,  three  parts ;  divisa  est,  divide  ;  omnis 
GalUa,  all  Gaul ; "  that  is,  he  hated  to  see  a  thing 
badly  done,  or  wrongly  done,  even  if  a  superficial 
world,  looking  on,  said  that  the  result  was  all  the  same. 
Dundas  hated  bad  work  because  it  was  bad.  The  three 
partners,  therefore,  were  wholly  in  assent  about  the 
new  departure  of  the  firm ;  but  it  must  be  owned  that 
they  needed  all  Jasper's  determination,  and  his  firm 
way  of  putting  things,  to  start  the  firm  in  its  new 
career,  and  to  teach  the  little  world  inside  the  shop, 
and  the  large  world  outside,  what  the  new  departure 
was. 

Nor  was  that  lesson  very  quickly  taught.  The  world 
is  slow  to  believe  in  improvements.  A  clever  French 
writer  says  of  advertisements,  that  the  first  time  an 
advertisement  is  printed  you  do  not  see  it,  the  second 
time  you  see  it  and  do  not  read  it,  the  third  you  read  it 
and  forget  it,  the  fourth  you  read  it  and  resolve  to  ask 
3'our  wife,  the  fifth  you  read  it  and  do  ask  her,  and  on 
the  sixth  reading  you  go  and  buy.  This  statement  ex 
presses,  without  the  least  exaggeration,  the  world's 
slowness  to  learn  of  real  improvements  in  its  condition. 
That  is  the  reason  why  the  most  eager  and  plaintive 
wish  of  any  real  reformer  is  still,  what  it  always  was, 
that  people  who  have  ears  may  learn  to  hear.  But  the 
general  impression  is,  that  people  who  have  ears  need 
not  trouble  themselves  to  hear,  but,  instead  of  that, 
that  the}'  should  turn  to  and  talk  about  themselves. 

If  Buffum,  Rising  &  Dundas  had  issued  any  number 
of  handbills  stating  that  all  their  work  was  thorough 
work,  no  human  being  would  have  believed  them  be 
cause  the}'  said  so.  Nor  did  anybody  to  whom  old 
Edgar  told  his  story  of  the  spokes  remember  it  a  min 
ute  after  he  told  it ;  nor  did  the  loafers  who  stopped  to 
inquire  as  to  the  unloading  of  his  cart.  Nor  did  the 
loafers  at  the  Cass  House  bar,  to  whom  Fortinbras,  a 
little  drunk,  told,  with  many  oaths,  how  he  had  been 
snubbed  by  a  man  whose  name  he  did  not  know,  who 
7 


98  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

was  nothing  but  a carriage-builder,  remember  his 

story  an  hour.  But  when,  at  the  end  of  the  autumn, 
Hubbell,  the  cashier  of  the  Bank  of  Confidence,  came 
into  the  bank-parlor  a  little  late,  and  a  little  dusty,  and 
had  said  that  his  wagon  had  broken  down,  and  he  had 
had  to  walk,  Mr.  Anstey,  the  President,  put  down  his 
paper  and  said,  "  Let  me  tell  you  whom  to  send  it  to. 
Send  it  to  those  men  at  Buffum's.  You  know  I  bought 
my  new  buggy  of  them,  —  it  was  last  December,  —  and, 
by  Jove !  we  have  not  had  to  tighten  a  screw  on  it,  and 
it  runs  like  oil."  This  being  the  longest  speech  Mr. 
Anstey  had  made  for  many  years  in  the  bank-parlor, 
and  Mr.  Anstey  being  respected  in  the  inverse  ratio  of 
his  loquacity,  —  and  no  wonder,  —  Hubbell  did  send 
the  wagon  to  the  new  men  at  Buffum's,  when,  under 
jury  rig,  it  made  its  way  into  the  regions  of  the  bank. 
And,  when  this  sort  of  thing  happened  twenty  times 
over,  people  began  to  recollect,  what  the}r  had  never 
taken  the  trouble  to  remember,  the  parables  which  at 
the  moment  the}7"  could  not  understand,  of  Rising's 
dealings  with  Edgar,  and  of  his  harshness  to  the  cock- 
iiey  runner. 

The  idealist  firm,  although  they  dealt  in  material 
things,  had,  as  all  men  have,  the  eternal  questions  pre 
sented  to  them,  and  had  to  make  their  answers  accord 
ingly. 

It  was  at  the  time  of  the  outbreak  of  the  Mexican 
War.  All  three  of  these  men  had  voted  against  that 
win1  ;is  steadily  as  thc}^  knew  how.  Jasper  had  spoken 
against  it  in  one  and  another  ward-meeting,  and  some 
times  on  stumping  expeditions  in  the  country.  Dundas, 
in  his  quiet  vvay,  had  talked  down  one  and  another 
braggadocio  declaiming  in  favor  of  manifest  destiiry; 
11  nd  Biiii'iim,  in  his  sensitive  way,  hated  any  war,  most 
of  all  a  war  with  a  weak  nation  from  which  a  strong 
one  had  stolen  a  ewe  Iamb.  So  they  had  all  said,  as 
individuals,  that  the  war  was  wrong;  and  whatever 
honors  it  miglit  bring  to  individuals,  it  would  never 
bring  any  credit  to  the  country.  Mr.  Tolk,  however, 
h.ul  not  had  occasion  to  consult  BuilUni,  Rising  &  Dun- 


HONEST  WORK.  99 

das,  and  the  war  had  gone  on.  I  suppose  Jasper  him 
self  thought  that  he  had  done  his  duty  in  the  premises, 
and  that  he  had  as  little  to  do  with  it  as  with  the  Wars 
of  the  Roses,  when  one  day  he  was  invited  to  go  into 
partnership  with  Mr.  Polk  as  one  of  the  principals. 

A  tall,  gra}'-haired,  gentlemanly  man  of  military 
bearing,  and  with  a  gold  button  on  his  cap,  came  into 
the  counting-room,  said  his  name  was  Croghan, that  he 
was  Col.  Croghan  of  the  Engineers,  and  that  he  had 
come  "West  from  Washington  on  the  Government's 
affair  in  regard  to  its  contract  for  arnry-wagons.  Jas 
per  bowed  and  said  nothing.  "  We  have  published  an 
advertisement,  Mr.  Rising,  explaining  what  we  want ; 
and  I  have  at  the  fort  some  wagons  which  I  could  show 
you,  with  the  modifications  which  Gen.  Scott  and  Gen. 
Jessup  propose." 

Jasper  bowed  again,  and  said  nothing. 

"To  be  perfectly  frank  with  }TOU,  we  have  not  had 
exactly  the  bids  we  liked  in  answer  to  our  advertise 
ments.  The  order  is  a  large  one,  and  we  know  the 
time  is  ver}r  short.  The  large  Eastern  houses  are  full 
of  other  work ;  and,  though  we  have  given  some  large 
orders  there,  we  shall  not  be  supplied.  I  happened  to 
be  in  Detroit  on  business ;  and  I  heard  of  your  firm, 
and  I  thought  I  would  come  and  see  you.  The  West 
has  some  great  advantages  in  the  selection  of  lumber 
for  wagons." 

Jasper  bowed  again,  but  still  said  nothing. 

"  I  think  I  can  make  3'ou  understand  what  we  want," 
said  the'  colonel,  a  little  surprised.  "  We  know  our 
time  is  short,  and  we  are  disposed  to  be  liberal.  What 
we  should  like  would  be  to  engage  the  whole  service  of 
some  men  who  understood  their  business,  some  men  like 
yourself,  who  would  be  willing  to  make  a  large  contract 
with  us.  Of  course  they  need  not  do  the  work  in  their 
own  shops,  —  we  want  the  first  of  these  wagons  in  live 
weeks  from  to-day,  —  but  such  men  could  command 
the  services  of  all  the  small  shops  in  this  part  of  the 
county.  The  Government  is  very  liberal  about  ad 
vances  ;  and  really,  Mr.  Rising,  your  own  work  here 


100  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

would  be  rather  that  of  inspection  than  of  manufacture. 
So  you  sent  us  good  wagons,  we  should  pay  well  for 
them,  and  pa}r  promptly." 

It  was  in  this  way  that  conscientious  officials  dealt 
with  conscientious  workmen  before  contracts,  also,  when 
reduced  to  one  of  the  meanest  sciences  of  social  life. 

This  time  Jasper  had  to  speak.  "  We  saw  your  ad 
vertisements,"  he  said,  "  and  we  determined  not  to 
bid." 

"  I  know  you  did  not  bid,"  said  the  colonel,  a  little 
dashed  by  Jasper's  reticemrr,  "  and  I  can  very  well  un 
derstand  why  you  do  not  want  to  bid.  It  is  all  a  dem- 
agoguing  pretence,  the  whole  theory  of  advertising  for 
bids.  I  told  the  quastermaster-general  so  when  he  be 
gan.  Now  he  has  lost  a  month,  perhaps  he  knows  it. 
I  should  not  think  you  would  bid.  It  is  we  who  bid 
now.  In  short,  we  must  have  the  wagons." 

Jasper  bowed  again. 

"  You  will  not,  of  course  put  an  unfair  price  on  your 
work.  But  the  country  wants  good  work,  and  the  Gov 
ernment  has  no  time  to  spare.  So  we  are  willing,  as  I 
said,  to  pay  well,  to  pay  the  highest  price,  if  you  will 
only  enlist  for  us  the  best  service  of  the  men  who 
can  do  these  things." 

"  Yes,"  said  Jasper,  "  I  understand  what  you  want ; 
but  we  do  not  want  to  build  these  wagons." 

"  Docs  your  work  press  you  so?" 

"  Not  at  all,"  said  Jasper,  laughing  ;  "  I  wish  we  had 
ten  times  as  much  as  we  have.  I  should  sleep  better 
for  one." 

"  Then,  why  not  take  our  offer?  or  wlvy  not  make  us 
one?  Name  your  terms,  say  for  two  hundred  of  these 
wjigons,  and  see  if  I  cannot  come  to  them." 

"  I  have  named  my  terms,  — they  are,  that  we  do  not 
want  to  build  them  at  all." 

"  I  do  not  underhand  you.  You  say  3*011  would  be 
glad  of  work,  ;md  you  will  not  take  it  when  1  oiler  it." 

"I  said  1  should  be  glad  of  ten  times  as  much  as  we 
are  doing;  and  I  should.  But  I  did  not  say  that  I 
wanted  to  do  work  for  this  war." 


UONEST  WORK.  101 

"  Let  me  be  as  frank  asjxmhave  been,  Col.  Croghan, 
and  do  not  let  me  offend  you.  You  believe  in  the  ad 
ministration,  and  you  believe  in  the  war.  You  are 
doing  your  duty,  therefore,  in  building  these  wagons  as 
best  3~ou  can.  I  do  not  believe  in  the  administration, 
and  I  do  not  believe  in  the  war.  What  I  could  do  to 
prevent  it  I  have  done,  and  now  I  cannot  help  it.  I  do 
not  choose  to  make  money  out  of  what  I  think  a  pub 
lic  wrong." 

This  time  the  colonel  was  puzzled. 

"  The  responsibility  is  not  yours,"  said  he. 

"No.  But  it  would  be  if  I  made  a  profit  out  of 
wagon-building  which  the  war  made  necessary.  I 
wish  the  war  had  not  been  begun." 

"  Perhaps  I  do,"  said  the  colonel,  "  but  I  did  not 
make  it." 

"  No,"  said  Jasper  ;  "  nor  I,  thank  God.  Nor  will  I 
make  money  out  of  it." 

"And  your  partners?"  said  the  colonel,  looking 
round. 

"  Have  talked  with  me  of  this,  and  we  agree." 

The  colonel  rose,  and  gave  Jasper  his  hand  with 
great  cordiality.  "Pardon  me,"  said  he,  "  are  you 
Quakers?" 

"  So  far  as  this  goes3rou  can  call  us  so,"  said  Jasper, 
laughing.  And  they  parted. 

So  the  new  firm  lost  a  connection,  out  of  which  they 
could  have  easily  made  twenty  thousand  dollars  before 
twelve  months  were  over.  But  they  saved  their  self- 
respect ;  and  really  that  was  worth  —  something — 
more. 


102  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 


CHAPTER    XI. 

THE     GOVERNESS. 

"DERTHA  SCIIWARZ  had  just  entered  what  was 
called  the  school-room,  at  Mrs.  Rosenstein's  house 
in  Milwaukie. 

"  O  Bertha,  I  am  so  glad  you  have  come  !  Mayn't  I 
string  beads  while  I  say  my  verb  ?  " 

"  You  must  not  say  Bertha  to  Miss  Schwarz." 

"Who  are  you?  I  will  sa}T  Bertha  if  I  choose. 
Mayn't  I  say  Bertha  ?  " 

"  You  sha'n't  say  Bertha.  If  }*ou  do,  I'll  tell  ma. 
Ma  said  we  must  say  Miss  Schwarz.  Did  not  she,  Miss 
Schwarz  ?  Ma  !  ma  !  "  this  last  an  octave  higher,  and 
ten  fortissimos  louder,  "  Ma  !  ma  !  Shall  Charlotte  say 
Bertha?" 

Such  was  the  hopeful  and  agreeable  beginning  of  one 
morning's  skirmish  or  running  fight,  in  the  discharge 
of  Bertha  Schwarz's  daily  duties.  It  is  a  good  enough 
representation  of  every  day,  as  she  began  it,  with  these 
spoiled  wild-cats.  There  was  nothing  in  their  mother 
that  they  respected,  and  they  had  no  habit  of  obedience. 
But  they  referred  to  her  ten  times  as  often  as  children 
do  who  have  the  habits  of  obedience  and  of  respect. 
Bertha  began  with  amazement,  soon  passed  through  the 
stages  of  terror  and  home-sickness,  and  finally  suc 
ceeded,  in  a  certain  fashion,  in  obtaining  much  more  in 
fluence  than  father  or  mother  ever  had.  Whether  this 
did  much  good,  either  to  herself  or  to  the  children,  she 
was  not  wholly  sure. 

On  this  ] (articular  morning,  for  instance,  she  had 
shamed  some  and  encouraged  others  into  something 
like  ardor,  and  had  really  succeeded  in  interesting 


THE  GOVERNESS.  103 

Adelaide  in  the  geograplr^,  which  Adelaide  had  been 
carefully  trained  "  to  hate,"  in  the  methods  of  Bertha's 
predecessors. 

"  Your  big  map  the  same  as  my  little  one?  Why, 
Miss  Schwarz,  I  am  sure  the  little  one  is  big  enough  for 
me.  I  never  shall  read  all  the  names  on  it.  1  hate 
map-questions." 

"  I  am  quite  sure,  Addie,  that  one  day  you  will  be 
asking  your  father  to  buy  you  a  bigger  map  than 
mine." 

"  I  never  shall  ask  him  to  buy  me  any  book  but  a 
story-book  as  long  as  I  live  and  breathe.  I  mean  to 
tease  him  for  a  stor}T-book  to-daj*.  Clem  Saunders 
told  me  of  a  beautiful  book  her  brother  brought  her 
from  Buffalo." 

"But  now,  Addie,  we  must  study  the  geography.  If 
you  never  know  your  geography,  you  will  never  know 
how  to  go  to  Buffalo." 

"Ho!  sha'n'tl?  I  shall  just  tell  William  to  take 
nr^  trunks  down  to  the  lake,  and  then  I  shall  make  him 
drive  me  down  to  the  boat ;  and  I  shall  go  on  board, 
and  I  shall  say  to  old  Mr.  Plumptre  that  I  must  have 
the  very  best  state-room  he  has  got ;  and  he  will  let  me 
have  it,  because  pa  got  him  his  place  in  the  line  ;  and 
I  shall  have  a  beautiful  time  all  the  vfay ;  and  when  we 
get  there,  old  Mr.  Plumptre  will  come  and  find  up  all 
my  things,  and  will  get  a  carriage  for  me,  and  I  shall 
ride  up  to  Gussie  Flinders's.  You  shall  go,  too,  Miss 
Schwarz.  You  will  like  it  ever  so  much  better  than 
that  horrid  stage.  I  don't  see  why  pa  wanted  to  come 
that  way." 

Bertha  had  not  advanced  matters  much  by  her  sug 
gestion  of  Buffalo.  It  was  clear  enough  that  the  little 
goose  had  already  learned  that  there  were  other  methods 
for  achieving  what  she  wanted  than  the  imperial  road 
of  learning.  Yet  Bertha  began  again. 

"  Don't  you  remember  Trenton?" 

"Of  course  I  do.  Didn't  we  have  great  fun  there? 
Don't  you  ever  tell,  Miss  Schwarz,  as  long  as  3-011  live 
and  breathe  ;  but  while  nia  and  pa  and  you  were  sitting 


104  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

on  the  piazza,  after  tea,  with  that  old  Dutchman  and 
his  wife,  Ferd  and  Lotty  and  I  went  down  to  the  stream 
again ;  and  we  began  throwing  rocks,  and  then  we 
made  boats ;  and  then  Ferd  took  off  his  boots,  and 
Lotty  and  I  pulled  off  our  shoes,  and  we  sat  on  the 
rocks  and  paddled  in  the  water  with  our  feet,  and  Lot- 
ty's  shoe  got  all  wet ;  and  we  had  such  fun.  Wouldn't 
ma  scold  if  she  knew  it.  You  won't  tell,  Miss  Schwarz, 
will  you?" 

Bertha  did  not  commit  herself  in  reply  to  this  ami 
able  entreat}',  but  held  on  to  Trenton,  resolved  to  get 
her  geography  lesson  started  if  she  could. 

" How  do  you  suppose  we  ever  got  to  Trenton?" 

"  I  suppose  —  I  don't  know  —  1  suppose  pa  bought  a 
ticket  to  Trenton  from  Saratoga." 

"  No." 

"  I  suppose  he  told  the  railroad  man  that  ma  wanted 
to  go  there.  I  know  Mrs.  Flinders  told  ma  she  must 
go  there,  —  that  was  the  way  ma  knew  about  it.  O 
Miss  Schwarz  !  you  never  saw  anybody  like  Mrs.  Flin 
ders." 

"No  matter  about  Mrs.  Flinders.  That  was  not  the 
way  we  got  to  Trenton.  The  way  was  this :  After 
Mrs.  Flinders  had  been  talking  to  your  mother  at  the 
United  States,  your  father  took  out  this  veiy  map  that 
J  have  got  here,  and  he  looked  for  Saratoga,  and  for 
Utica,  and  for  Trenton,  and  Trenton  Falls  ;  and  he 
found  them  all  four,  and  he  showed  them  to  me.  He 
knew  we  could  go  to  Utica  by  the  railroad.  He  did  not 
know,  and  none  of  us  knew,  whether  we  were  to  go  to 
Trenton  when  we  went  to  Trenton  Falls.  He  found  out 
by  this  map  ;  and  he  showed  me  and  your  mother.  I 
suppose  he  did  not  show  you  because  you  hate  map- 
questinns,  and  those  were  map-questions." 

"  I  do  not  see  any  of  them  on  my  map,"  said  Ade 
laide.  There  is  no  greater  minor  comfort  to  a  snubbed 
child  at  school,  than  the  power  to  say,  "  It  is  not  in  nvy 
book." 

Wk  No ;   Utica   is   on  your  map,  but  neither  of  the 


THE  GOVERNESS.  105 

Trontons  are.     Saratoga  is,  — there  is  Saratoga.    Now 
see  if  you  can  find  Utica." 

"  Rome  —  Attica  —  Painted  Post,  what  a  funny  name 
— Utica,  here's  Utica.  That's  where  Ferd  upset  the 
custard  ;  oh,  how  mad  he  was  !  " 

'•Well,  no  matter  about  Ferd.  What  we  want  is 
Trenton  and  Trenton  Falls." 

"They  are  not  in  my  book,  that's  certain.  What's 
the  use  of  having  such  a  book  ?  " 

"  Not  much,"  said  Bertha.  "It  is  only  meant  for 
little  children.  Suppose  3*011  look  on  your  father's  map. 
Bring  that  cushion  here  and  sit  down  by  me.  There  is 
Saratoga,  here  is  the  railroad."  — 

"  Railroad  on  a  map  ?  " 

"  Yes,  on  a  real  map,  —  on  a  large  map." 

"  Why !  Look  here,  Ferd ;  here  is  Ballston,  and 
here  is  the  lake,  —  don't  you  know,  where  we  got  the 
pond-lillies.  Ferd,  come  here  ;  here  is  Glenn's  Falls, 
where  we  saw  the  cave  where  Natt}r  Bumpo  hid  and  the 
two  girls,  —  don't  you  know,  Miss  Schwarz  ?  we  read 
it  that  night.  Ferd,  see  here !  here  is  every  single 
place  we  went  to  from  Saratoga." 

"Don't  call  Ferd,  he  is  learning  his  verbs." 

"  And  here  is  the  canal ;  oh,  dear  !  do  you  remember 
those  children  with  the  geese  ?  Here  is  the  railroad,  — 
it  saj'S  '  Saratoga  and  Schenectady  Railroad,'  just  as  it 
did  on  the  great  card  in  the  hall  of  the  United  States. 
Then  we  got  out  at  Schenectad}T,  you  know.  That's 
where  we  bought  oranges  of  the  blind  man.  Then  we 
got  into  the  other  railroad,  and  went  —  and  went  to  — 
Albany  !  No,  we  did  not  go  to  Albany.  We  had  been 
to  Albany  before.  The  map  is  wrong." 

"  Try  the  other  wajV 

"Other  way?"  said  the  girl,  really  bright  enough, 
and  interested  now.  "  Oh,  yes !  here  is  Little  Falls, 
where  I  bought  the  diamonds.  Here  is  Utica  —  Ilcrki- 
mer  —  Russia.  I  did  not  know  Russia  was  near  Utica, 
—  somehow  I  thought  Russia  was  in  France.  Russia, 
Trenton  —  Trenton  —  here  is  Trenton  —  and  here  is 
Trenton  Falls,  and  here  is  the  road.  Yes  ;  there  is  one 


106  UPS  AND  D  0  WNS. 

road,  and  there  is  one.     How  nice  it  is  to  have  the 
roads  down  !     "Why  are  they  not  on  my  map  ?  " 

"Your  map  is  too  small,  you  goose,"  said  Ferd,  re 
laxing  from  his  industry. 

"  Well,  I  don't  care  ;  I  mean  to  make  pa  buy  me 
just  such  a  map  as  this,  and  I  mean  to  write  down  the 
towns  we  stopped  at  as  we  came  on." 

So  she  unfolded  the  whole  map  of  New  York  on  the 
floor  ;  and  before  Miss  Addie  knew  it  she  had  learned 
all  the  "  map-questions  "  of  the  day,  and  many  more 
than  even  the  bold  book-maker  had  ventured  to  suggest. 
Bertha  was  not  displeased  with  her  own  success  in  al 
luring  to  the  side  of  order  the  scholar  who  had  most 
influence  on  the  rest  of  the  crew  ;  and  she  was  able  to 
give  some  personal  attention  to  Master  Ferd's  verb, 
while  the  school-room  assumed  an  air  of  quiet  which 
was  as  unusual  as  it  was  unexpected.  But,  in  a  minute 
more,  the  door  was  flung  open,  and  Mrs.  Kosenstein 
dashed  in,  arrayed  for  conquest. 

"  No  more  stupid  books  to-day,"  cried  she.  "  Come, 
my  pet ;  come,  Addie ;  come,  Miss  Schwarz  ;  the  day 
is  so  fine  that  I  am  going  to  take  you  all  to  ride  !  Put 
awa}r  that  horrid  old  map,  Adelaide,  and  never  let  me 
see  you  on  the  floor  again  !  " 

"  Ma}r  I  go,  ma?  "  screamed  Ferd. 

"  Oh,  no  !  I  can't  take  you  ;  bo}Ts  are  such  a  plague." 

"  I  want  to  go  !  "  persisted  Ferd. 

"Of  course  }T>u  want  to.  Aren't  you  satisfied  with 
your  holida}',  that  you  must  be  teasing  to  go  to  ride  ? 
Go  and  pla}"  with  the  other  boys." 

Ferd  persisted  that  the  other  boys  were  all  at  school, 
all  but  Ted  Morris,  and  it  was  only  yesterday  lie  had 
been  told  never  to  play  with  Ted  Morris  again  as  long 
as  lie  lived. 

"  Then  go  to  that  dirt}',  vulgar  Ted  Morris's  for  tin* 
once.  But  don't  come  home  with  your  clothes  nil  cov 
ered  with  clay  again,  and  don't  ever  repeat  one  word 
you  hear  Ted  Morris  say." 

80  Ferd  won  his  victor}-,  which  he  followed  up  by 


THE  GOVERNESS.  107 

teasing  for  money-  to  buy  powder  with,  and  went  on  his 
triumphant  way. 

Bertha  asked  Mrs.  Eosenstein  to  let  Ferd  have  her 
seat  in  the  carriage.  She  would  really  have  been  glad 
to  have  the  time  at  home,  and  she  said  so.  But  madame 
said  no,  and  took  all  pleasure  from  the  ride  at  the  same 
time  by  giving  a  reason. 

"  The  ride  would  be  nothing  without  you,"  she  said  ; 
"  and  you  must  not  wear  that  dowdy  old  travelling- 
bonnet,  3'ou  must  have  your  new  hat,  and  must  look 
3'our  prettiest,  for  I  am  going  to  call  at  Mrs.  Rounds's, 
and  there  is  no  saying  who  we  shall  see  there,  my 
pretty  Bertha." 

There  was  a  certain  Carl  Rounds,  a  fine,  manly  fel 
low,  who  liked  Bertha,  and  whom  Bertha  liked ;  and 
Mrs.  Rosenstein  had  a  way  of  making  her  life  miserable 
by  showing  her  off  in  such  fashion  as  this  to  him.  So 
they  took  the  ride.  We  have  no  need  to  follow  it.  It  all 
turned  out  much  as  you  might  have  expected.  Mrs.  Ros 
enstein  had  expected  to  meet  some  people  whom  she 
did  not  meet.  Mrs.  Rounds  was  not  at  home,  really  ; 
but  Mrs.  Rosenstein  chose  to  pretend  that  she  was  re 
fused  to  her.  The  two  girls  quarrelled  when  they  sat 
on  opposite  seats,  and  they  quarrelled  when  they  were 
on  the  same  seat.  "Ma"  steadily  scolded,  and  they 
were  as  steadily  impudent.  Poor  Bertha  got  it  on  all 
hands  ;  and  the  last  words  Mrs.  Rosenstein  said  to  her, 
as  they  all  ran  up  stairs  to  get  ready  for  a  late  and  cold 
dinner,  were  these : 

"  If  you  knew  your  place,  Miss  Schwarz,  you  would 
not  speak  till  you  were  spoken  to,  nor  give  your  advice 
till  it  was  asked  for ; "  because  poor  Bertha,  having 
been  bidden  point-blank  to  decide  whether  Charlotte  or 
Adelaide  was  to  blame  in  the  ninety-ninth  battle-royal 
&f  the  hour,  had  pronounced  a  decision  which  happened 
to  traverse  the  mood , their  mother  was  in  at  the  mo 
ment  she  heard  it  uttered.  Such  was  a  fair  enough 
specimen  of  Bertha's  life  with  the  pupils  intrusted  to 
her  care. 

If  she  could  only  have  been  left  alone,  she  used  to 


108  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

say  to  herself,  —  for  she  never  intrusted  her  griefs  to 
her  father  or  mother,  —  if  she  could  only  have  been 
left  alone  with  the  children,  to  make  the  best  of  them 
that  she  knew  how,  she  would  not  complain.  But  this 
pestering  interference,  this  blowing  hot  and  cold,  just 
when  she  saw  her  crystal  forming  so  that  there  ought 
to  be  no  blowing  from  the  outside  at  all,  —  that  wras  a 
grievance  indeed !  Ah  !  my  dear  Bertha,  you  will  find 
before  you  have  got  through,  that  what  you  are  com 
plaining  of  is  not  Mrs.  Rosenstein's  school-room,  it  is. 
human  life.  To  do  one's  duty  would  be  easy  in  the 
comparison,  if,  as  one  does  it,  he  were  not  always  pest 
ered  on  the- right  and  on  the  left  by  the  fools  who  want 
to  help,  the  fools  who  want  to  advise,  the  fools  who 
want  to  ask  why,  and  the  fools  who  want  to  hinder. 
Indeed,  that  is  a  wise  remark  of  Henry  Kingsley,  that 
when  the  Devil  wishes  to  arrest  any  good  work,  and 
has  failed  to  do  so  by  the  agency  of  people  of  intelli 
gence,  his  next  step  is  alwa}'s  to  enlist  the  unconscious 
service  of  a  fool. 

But  Bertha  had  plent}^  of  pluck.  She  had  gone  into 
this  matter  with  her  eyes  open,  and  she  was  not  going 
to  cry  "  Enough,"  or  to  go  out  of  it,  till  she  had  fairly 
wrought  through  what  she  had  started  on.  She  had 
made  her  bed,  and  she  was  willing  to  lie  in  it ;  though 
there  were  more  burrs  between  the  sheets  than  she  liked, 
and  also  more  rose-leaves  on  the  pillows.  Whether  she 
liked  Mrs.  Rosenstein's  flatteries  or  her  scolding  least, 
Bertha  hardly  knew.  On  the  whole,  she  thought  she 
would  rather  take  her  chance  with  the  burrs  than  the 
rose-leaves. 

31  r.  Rosenstein,  who  was  even  lavish  in  all  Itis  family 
expenses,  hud  made  the  most  generous  arrangements  for 
Bertha's  quarterly  wages,  and  they  were  most  promptly 
paid  to  her.  Whether  he  were  as  lavish  or  generous 
in  his  business,  Bertha  did  not  know.  What  his  Imsi- 
\vas  she  really  did  not  know.  There  was  an  oilice 
on  the  main  street,  and  they  sometimes  stopped  there 
in  driving.  Sometimes  a  Jewish-looking  traveller  ap 
peared  at  dinner  or  at  tea ;  sometimes  one  spent  the 


THE  GOVERNESS.  109 

night  at  the  house.  On  such  occasions  Mr.  Rosenstein's 
meals  were  even  shorter  than  usual ;  and  there  would 
be  close  conclave  in  a  little  end  room,  which  wras  hon 
ored  ~by  the  name  of  the  library,  because  there  was  a 
bookcase  with  a  few  bound  volumes  of  "  Graham's 
Magazine  "  there.  At  times,  with  very  little  previous 
announcement,  Mr.  Rosenstein  would  be  away  on  busi 
ness.  No  one  ever  knew  for  how  long  he  would  be 
gone,  so  he  alwa}'s  returned  as  unexpectedly  as  he  went. 
Bertha  was  always  sorry  to  have  him  go ;  for  though 
he  had  but  little  to  say  or  do,  when  he  was  at  home,  — 
tired  indeed,  and  rather  thoughtful,  perhaps  anxious, — 
still  he  was  fond  of  the  children,  and  they  were  fond  of 
him ;  he  knew  how  to  keep  his  wife  in  order,  and  she 
was  afraid  of  him,  so  that  the  interior  regimen  of  the 
house  went  on  much  better  and  more  happily  than  it 
did  in  his  absence.  Occasionally,  on  what  Bertha  called 
his  bright  da}'s,  he  would  ask  her  to  play  to  him.  He 
was  almost  what  might  be  called  a  connoisseur  in  music, 
very  fond  of  it,  —  had  his  own  tastes,  and  knew  what 
they  were,  and  really  entered  with  spirit  and  interest 
into  what  Bertha  was  so  glad  to  play. 

Quite  independent  of  the  regular  allowance  which 
came  to  her  from  Mr.  Rosenstein,  with  which  indeed  at 
no  moment  had  his  wife  anything  to  do,  were  the  pres 
ents  of  dress  and  jewelry  which  that  lady  took  the 
whim  sometimes  to  give  to  her.  This  made  a  business 
which  was  to  the  last  degree  annoying  to  Bertha,  on 
every  account,  and  in  a  thousand  wa}Ts.  In  the  first 
place  she  noticed  that  once,  when  she  took  care  to 
thank  Mr.  Rosenstein  as  well  as  his  wife  for  a  showy 
dress  that :  had  been  sent  home  to  her,  he  was  evidently 
surprised,  and,  as  Bertha  felt  sure,  annoyed.  In  the 
second  place,  she  found  very  soon,  that  on  any  turn  of 
ill  humor,  —  and  such  turns  came  in  quite  as  often  as 
other  tides  do,  —  the  last  shawl-pin  or  the  last  bon-bon 
which  Mrs.  Rosenstein  had  given  Bertha,  was  sure  to 
be  called  up  in  impertinent  retrospect  of  bounties  ren 
dered.  Bertha  kept  all  these  things  by  themselves  ;  for 
she  really  thought  that  there  might  come  such  a  teni- 


110  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

pest  some  day  that  she  might  want  to  return  them 
all  in  one  heap  of  obligation  discharged,  even  upon 
the  head  of  the  giver. 

It  has  seemed  best  to  resume  in  this  way  the  method 
of  Bertha's  Milwaukie  life,  that  we  may  throw  a  little 
light  on  the  spirit  with  which  the  several  parties  con 
cerned  went  into  the  business  of  Mrs.  Rosenstein's  great 
triennial  part}',  which  came  otF  late  in  the  spring,  after 
Bertha  found  herself  entangled  in  this  web-work  of 
falsehood,  petty  intrigue,  ignorance,  and  folly. 

Milwaukie  was  even  then,  as  it  is  now,  a  centre  of 
accomplished  and  agreeable  society.  People  of  rare 
culture  came  there  early  in  its  existence.  Something 
in  the  mere  beauty  of  its  situation,  attracted,  b}T  a  law 
of  natural  selection,  some  noble  families  among  the 
throng  of  those  who,  in  passing  westward,  happened  to 
land  in  its  harbor ;  the  enterprise  and  success  of  its 
founders,  gave  life  and  cheerfulness  to  the  whole, —  the 
freshness  of  all  Western  life  had  an  opportunit}'  to 
show  itself,  —  and  a  mixture  singularly  happy,  of  dif 
ferent  races  of  men,  gave  to  mutual  intercourse  a 
charm  which  old  and  established  communities  cannot 
know.  Into  the  midst  of  such  society,  which  was  not  in 
the  least  pretentious  or  reserved  in  its  ways,  Mrs.  Rosen- 
stein  flung  herself;  and  either  thought,  or  pretended  she 
thought,  that  swagger  and  presumption,  diamonds  and 
paste,  showy  dress  and  more  showy  dancing,  were 
going  cither  to  astonish  or  to  charm.  She  acted  as  if, 
in  the  unselfish,  unpretending,  high-toned  social  onjer 
of  the  little  town,  a  foolish,  false,  petulant  woman  like 
herself  would  be  received  as  an  article  of  elegance,  and 
in  some  sort  feared  and  courted,  as  she  had  been  taught 
by  very  foolish  novels,  that  ladies  of  fashion  were 
feared  and  courted  in  London  and  in  Paris.  The 
assumption  and  the  ambition  were  to  the  last  decree 
iibsunl  in  a  wido-nwake,  honest  Western  town,  which 
did  not  count  twelve  years  from  its  log-cabins,  nor 
number  in  all  lift  eon  thousand  people.  But  absurdity 
in- VIM-  put  any  limit  to  any  of  Mrs.  Rosenstein's 
schemes. 


THE  GOVEENESS.  Ill 

All  through  the  winter,  therefore,  to  Bertha's  dis 
may,  to  the  amusement  of  people  of  sense,  to  the 
amazement  of  everybody,  Mrs.  Rosenstein  was  talking 
about  the  party  she  was  going  to  give.  In  the  midst 
of  sociables  and  hops  and  cotillion  parties  and  old- 
fashioned  tea-fights,  she  would  be  heard  talking  about 
her  ball.  The  young  men  made  a  joke  of  it,  the  girls 
tore  to  pieces  the  programme  of  it  in  their  private 
talks,  the  judicious  grieved  to  see  anybody,  no  matter 
who,  make  herself  such  a  fool.  None  the  less  did  Mrs. 
Rosenstein  blow  her  own  own  trumpet.  And,  because 
time  is  pitiless,  at  last  the  party  came. 

No,  I  am  not  to  describe  the  various  pretensions 
or.  the  various  pieces  of  solid  sense  which  went  to 
its  composition.  Not  even  as  accomplished  a  fool 
as  the  hostess  could  make  of  such  a  party  a  fail 
ure.  For,  of  a  town  of  the  size  Milwaukie  was 
then,  the  glory  is,  that  it  has  better  opportuni 
ties  for  social  intercourse  than  it  will  ever  have 
again.  It  is  large  enough,  and  not  too  large.  Who 
ever  is  bright  or  agreeable,  or  well  informed,  whoever 
pleases  in  societj',  for  whatever  reason,  comes  forward 
and  is  known,  —  especially  if  3Tou  have  that  perfect  in 
stitution  for  mutual  acquaintance  and  introduction,  the 
public  school.  If  Mrs.  Rosenstein  had  meant  to  be  ex 
clusive,  she  could  not  have  been.  She  could  not  have 
drawn  her  line,  like  Miss  Austen's  hero,  so  as  to  in 
clude  as  gentlefolks  only  those  who  rode  in  gigs.  She 
could  not  have  drawn  it,  like  Mrs.  Sherman's  servant, 
so  as  to  include  only  those  who  drank  wine  and  swore. 
She  could  not  draw  it  anywhere  in  the  fresh  freedom 
of  the  new-born  city.  To  give  her  her  due,  she  did 
not  want  to  draw  it  anywhere.  Her  house  was  large, 
her  garden  was  pretty,  almost  the  only  garden  in  the 
town  indeed,  and  the  more  people  she  could  get  to 
gether  the  better.  She  was  by  no  means  particular. 

Our  only  business  with  the  party  is  with  Bertha's  ups 
and  downs  in  it ;  nor  can  we  give  all  of  these.  If 
the  full  fortunes  of  a  young  girl  at  her  first  party  were 
fairly  written  out  from  the  beginning  to  the  end,  as  she 


112  UPS  AND  D  0  WNS. 

might  relate  them  to  her  dearest  bosom  friend,  they 
would  fill  the  three-volume  novel  of  antiquity  to  the 
last  page. 

As  to  dress,  hardly  a  paragraph.  Yet  dress  cost 
Bertha  terrible  anxiety.  Should  she  wear  the  frock 
Mrs.  Rosenstein  had  given  her  only  three  months 
before,  which  had  never  made  but  one  appearance? 
Of  course,  she  would  have  worn  it,  had  she  not  been 
absolutely  sure,  from  something  Mr.  Rosenstein  had 
looked  and  not  said,  that  the  dress  had  been  the  cause 
of  a  regular  quarrel  between  himself  and  madame. 
Should  she  wear  some  pearl  ornaments  which  Mrs.  Ros 
enstein  had  pressed  on  her  on  her  birthday?  She 
hated  the  ornaments  for  themselves,  for  they  were  by 
no  means  in  her  style.  Yet  not  to  wear  them  was  of 
course  marked ;  and,  if  she  did  not  wear  the  frock, 
ought  she  not  wear  the  jewels?  Lastly,  were  the 
jewels  jewels  ?  or  were  they  of  that  hocus  make  which, 
or  the  suspicion  of  which,  vitiated  nearly"  everything 
in  the  Rosenstein  establishment? 

"  It  is  so  hard,"  said  pocr  Bertha  to  herself.  "  If  I 
only  knew  what  was  right,  I  would  do  it,  pinch  as  it 
might."  She  had  never  read  "  The  New  Timon,"  but 
she  had  read,  her  Bible ;  and  though  she  did  not  be 
lieve  that 

"  He  can't  be  wrong  who  but  denies  himself," 

she  did  know,  that,  if  she  set  herself  quite  in  the  back 
ground,  her  chance  of  deciding  right  would  be  bet 
ter.  "  First,  then,"  she  said,  "  1  will  not  wear  the  silk 
dress ;  for  I  know  Mrs.  Rosenstein  ought  not  have 
irivrn  it.  I  will  wear  the  ornaments,  because  I  am  not 
quite  sure  whether  I  hate  them  because1  they  look  like 
fury,  or  because  she  gave  them  to  me.  No  matter  how 
I  look ;  but  it  is  matter  that  I  shall  not  bring  one  more 
bone  of  contention  into  the  party."  So  she  laid  every 
thing  out,  smv  to  he  ready  to  dress,  and  then  went  to  help 
Charlotte,  Theresa,  and  Adelaide  in  their  preparations. 
She  did  not  corne  to  either  of  them  before  she  was 


THE  GOVEBNESS.  113 

needed.  Charlotte  was  in  tears  on  the  floor.  Ade 
laide  was  raging  up  and  down  her  room  in  hopeless 
deshabille.  It  needed  all  Bertha's  tact  to  soothe  the 
one  and  to  comprehend  the  other.  Charlotte,  child 
like,  was  brought  to  terms  soonest.  Adelaide  was 
fairly  enraged  at  a  palpable  injustice  of  her  mother, 
who,  having  given  her  a  beautiful  set  of  pearls  when 
they  were  last  in  New  York,  on  which  Adelaide  had 
relied  for  her  toilette,  had  coolly  come  in  just  before  to 
say  she  believed  she  would  wear  them  herself,  and  had 
carried  them  awa}r.  Adelaide  declared  she  would  not 
stand  it,  and  that  she  would  not  go  to  the  party  at  all. 
With  her  Bertha  had  to  labor  indeed.  Nor  would  she 
have  succeeded,  but  that  a  divine  inspiration  sent  her 
across  to  her  own  room  from  whence  she  returned  with 
the  pearls  —  were  they  from  Serendib,  were  they  from 
Rome,  Bertha  asked  not  —  which  Mrs.  Rosenstein  had 
given  to  her.  She  begged  Adelaide  to  wear  them,  ar 
gued  to  her  that  they  were  more  becoming  to  her, 
scolded  her,  coaxed  her,  proved  to  her  at  last,  that,  if 
she  wore  them,  everybody  would  be  satisfied,  and  all 
would  be  well.  And  then  she  dressed  Adelaide's  hair 
with  them  herself.  And  whether  they  were  pearls  or 
were  Roman  imitations,  no  one  would  suspect  them  in 
Miss  Rosenstein's  costume.  With  the  governess  it 
might  have  been  another  thing. 

Then  Bertha  dressed  Charlotte.  The  first  carriage 
was  alread}T  at  the  door ;  but  she  flew  back,  Cinderella 
that  she  was,  and  had  so  many  fairies  at  her  command 
that  she  was  soon  ready  to  run  down  herself.  Really 
there  had  come  only  a  few  of  those  desperate  people  who 
always  come  so  early  that  it  is  impossible  for  them  to 
enjoy  anything.  Still,  Mrs.  Rosenstein  had  a  chance 
to  look  disapproval  upon  Bertha,  and  to  say,  "  Always 
a  little  behind  time,  my  dear,"  which  was  an  out-and- 
out  lie.  But  Mr.  Rosenstein  was  cordial,  and  looked 
pleased,  as  airybody  might,  who  saw  such  a  fresh, 
cheerful,  unconscious  girl,  all  ready  to  be  happy. 

For  Bertha  had  been  used,  when  there  was  a  hop  or 
a  dance,  to  be  chained  to  the  music-stool,  and  to  ham- 
8 


114  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

mer  out  waltzes  and  polkas  and  quadrilles  for  the 
others.  Or,  if  some  saint  came  to  relieve  her,  it  alwa^ys 
happened  that  this  saint  was  better  trained  in  the  mu 
sic  of  the  spheres  than  in  that  of  human  harmony  and 
melod^y,  so  that  Bertha  went  almost  crazy,  as  she 
danced,  to  hear  such  ruin  of  time  and  tune.  But  to 
night  there  was  a  clever  little  band,  such  as  Milwaukie 
could  produce  more  easily  than  most  cities  thrice 
its  size,  and  Bertha  was  to  be  foot-free  if  anybody 
chose  to  dance  with  her. 

If!  to  be  sure.  What  an  unnecessary  affectation 
was  that,  Bertha !  Here  were  young  Gilmore  and 
Fiske,  Harry  Burton  and  William  Wallace,  Carl 
Rounds,  of  course,  and  I  know  not  how  many  other 
nice  boys,  and  young  men  who  would  not  like  to  hear 
me  call  them  bo}Ts,  only  too  eager  to  get  promise  of  the 
first  dance,  or  the  second,  or  the  third.  Yes  ;  and  for 
a  brilliant  hour  our  pretty  Bertha  forgot  the  burden  she 
had  carried  all  day,  and  forgot  there  would  be  any  burden 
to-morrow,  in  the  simple  and  pure  joy  of  dancing  to 
music  well-nigh  perfect  for  its  purpose,  with  partners 
who  were  started  into  some  life,  though  they  were  all 
Americans,  by  the  genuine  enjoyment  and  enthusiasm 
of  this  unspoiled  German  girl.  Once  she  ran  out  of 
the  room  to  catch  Ferdinand  and  to  fix  his  neck-tie. 
Once  she  caught  Theresa,  who  was  retiring  in  a  sulk 
because  something  had  gone  amiss,  and  restored  sun 
shine  there.  But  these  were  only  ripples  on  the  stream. 
For  the  hour  the  stream  flowed  with  pure  and  complete 
enjoyment,  which  she  was  too  true  and  too  young  even 
to  wonder  at  or  to  analyze. 

At  last  there  came  a  waltz.  There  had  been  no 
waltzing  before.  And  for  this  waltz  Bertha  had  en 
gaged  herself  to  Carl  Rounds.  She  confessed  to  her 
self  that  she  did  it  with  terror,  as  well  she  might.  She 
liked  Carl  Rounds  ;  she  liked  to  talk  with  him,  and  was 
always  glad  to  meet  him.  But  it  did  not  follow  Hint  ho 
could  waltz,  far  less  that  he  could  waltz  well.  And 
Bertha,  with  her  old  country  memories,  dreaded  the 
idea  of  a  battle-royal  on  the  floor,  till  he  should  be 


THE  GOVERNESS.  115 

gradually  persuaded  that  they  had  waltzed  enough,  so 
that  she  might  stop  with  decency.  And  this  had  been 
her  experience  thus  far  in  life,  in  American  waltzing. 
If  only  it  could  have  been  a  quadrille  with  Carl  Rounds, 
and  a  waltz  with  William  Wallace,  for  whom  she  did 
not  care  a  straw !  But  one  cannot  have  everything, 
Bertha  !  No  !  The  moment  came.  The  band  struck 
up  a  ravishing  Strauss.  Mrs.  Rosenstein  sailed  in  with 
a  moustached  man.  Remember  that  in  those  days  a 
moustache  was  a  rarit}'.  Then  came  Carl  Rounds. 
"  This  is  my  dance,  I  think,  Miss  Schwarz." 

Yes,  it  was ;  and  Bertha  looked  up  and  smiled,  nor 
let  him  know  how  she  dreaded  the  experiment.  Nor 
need  she.  An  instant  more,  and  she  knew  she  was  a 
fool.  Carl  Rounds  waltzed  as  well  as  she  did,  —  as  well 
as  he  rowed  or  as  he  skated  or  as  he  talked.  How  did 
it  happen  ?  I'm  sure  I  don't  know  how  it  happened. 
Only  it  did  happen.  And  the  music  was  more  ravish 
ing  and  more  —  and  Bertha  even  forgot  she  was  a  fool, 
and  was  able  completely  to  enter  into  the  spirit  of  the 
whole.  I  do  not  say  that  she  forgot  where  she  was. 
But  she  did  not  remember  —  Bertha  did  not  often  re 
member  —  that  other  people  were  looking  on. 

I  have  done  a  good  deal  of  looking  on  while  waltzing 
was  in  progress.  I  have  noted  three  varieties  of  waltz- 
ers.  1.  Those  to  whom  the  business  is  a  hard  and 
painful  necessity,  to  which  they  were  preordained  and 
commanded,  and  which  must  be  fulfilled.  About  nine 
teen  out  of  twenty  of  the  waltzing  couples  I  have  seen, 
served  their  generation  in  this  variety  of  service,  sad, 
serious,  and  sony,  but  brave.  2.  There  are  those  to 
whom  the  dance  is  a  fine  art,  who  enter  upon  it  as 
artists,  glad  to  carry  out  perfectly  a  system  or  inven 
tion,  which,  because  it  is  existing  in  society,  it  is  well 
for  them  to  sustain  absolutely  well.  These  people  do 
not  have  the  agonized  look  of  the  first  class  ;  they  are 
pleased  with  themselves,  which  is  something,  and  they 
are  worth  study,  as  illustrating  one  more  form  of  har 
mony  cast  in  action.  The  third  variety  —  mostly  Ger 
mans  by  nationality  —  are  people  who  are  thoroughly 


116  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

happy,  unconscious,  and  at  ease  as  they  dance.  They 
dance  as  the  thistle-down  floats,  which  we  bo}'s  used  to 
call  a  zephyr.  When  you  see  their  unconsciousness 
and  really  childish  simplicity  in  the  matter,  it  is  hard  to 
frown  at  waltzing,  and  to  say  it  is  all  wrong.  Such  a 
couple  were  Bertha  and  Carl  Rounds.  You  ma}^  go  to 
a  hundred  balls  to  grand-dukes  and  not  see  such 
another. 

Bertha  stopped  at  last,  not  because  such  dancing 
tired  her,  but  because  Carl  Rounds  himself  told  her 
that  everybody  else  had  stopped,  and  she  was  ashamed 
to  go  on.  She  stopped  and  rested  on  his  arm,  and  took 
him  to  task  for  letting  her  go  on  so  long  ;  and  he  said, 
of  course,  that  he  had  no  reason  for  arresting  her, 
when  a  smart  tap  from  Mrs.  Rosenstein  called  her  to 
turn  round. 

"  That  will  do  for  one  night,  Miss  Schwarz  ;  you 
have  danced  quite  as  much  as  is  at  all  proper ! " 

And  poor  Bertha  was  left  to  think  she  had  disgraced 
herself.  While  the  truth  was,  that  Mrs.  Rosenstein, 
who  valued  herself  greatly  on  her  waltzing,  was  mad 
with  jealousy  at  a  pretty  girl's  success,  and  did  not 
care  how  she  put  her  down.  Something  in  her  eye  wras 
worse  than  anything  in  her  voice.  Bertha  thought  she 
had  made  an  enemy  forever.  And  she  was  not  far 
wrong. 

Carl  Rounds  was  mad  enough  to  have  struck  the  old 
woman,  as  he  called  her,  the  next  morning.  But  the 
usages  of  society  forbade.  Bertha  had  to  refuse  her 
self  to  Harry  Burton  when  his  dance  came,  —  that 
made  him  mad  also.  Carl  had  to  dance  with  the  Cre- 
hore,  as  the  boys  called  her  ;  that  made  him  moie  mad, 
and  Bertha  ran  up  to  her  room  to  have  a  ciy. 

But  she  did  not  have  it.  I  believe  it  was  as  simple 
a  thing  as  a  pair  of  scissors  that  had  been  her  mother's, 
that  saved  h  T.  She  saw  them  on  her  dressing-table, 
and  remembered  why  she  was  in  that  house  at  all,  and 
nskcd  a  Tower  stronger  than  herself  to  carry  her 
through,  and  rail  down  again,  almost  happy.  They 


THE  G  0  VEItXESS.  1 1 7 

were  going  in  to  supper.  Bertha  was  about  to  follow 
the  train  without  escort,  when  Carl  Rounds  came  up. 

" May  I  hand  you  to  supper?  "  he  said.  And  on  the 
stairs :  "  I  took  the  liberty  to  make  your  peace  with 
Burton.  Would  you  be  kind  enough  to  speak  to  him 
when  you  can? "  And  then  :  "  Shall  I  give  you  water- 
ice,  or  vanilla?"  And  when  he  returned  from  the 
table,  he  was  leading  a  young  gentleman  to  her. 

"May  I  introduce  to  -you  a  friend  of  mine,  Miss 
Schwarz,  who  is  quite  a  stranger  here?  this  is  Mr.  Jas 
per  Rising." 

Bertha  did  not  need  to  be  told  that.  But  Jasper 
did  not  catch  her  name,  and  for  an  instant  could  not 
fix  her,  could  not  remember  where  he  had  seen  her. 
She  enjo}'ed  his  uneasy  self-questioning  for  a  moment, 
and  then  laughed  and  said,  in  German :  "  I  am  sorry 
you  forget  me,  Mr.  Rising,  —  could  you  bring  me 
another  glass  of  water  ?  " 

"Oh!  is  it  you?"  said  Jasper.  And  they  laughed 
heartily. 


118  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 


CHAPTER    XII. 

TALK   AT   A   PARTY. 

TTTHY!"  said  Carl  Rounds,  in  real  surprise,  "I 
*  *  thought  you  knew  no  one  in  Milwaukie  ! " 

"  I  thought  so  too,"  said  Jasper  ;  "  and  I  told  you 
so.  I  certainly  did  not  know  Miss  Schwarz  was  here. 
I  left  her"  — 

"  In  the  biggest  baskot-shop  I  ever  saw,  or  Mr.  Ris 
ing  either,"  said  Bertha,  interrupting  him  and  laughing. 
"  That  is  where  he  thinks  we  met  last.  O  Mr.  Rounds  ! 
we  could  make  you  laugh  very  heartily,  if  we  told  you 
of  our  journey,  But  all  I  need  tell  }T>u  now  is,  that 
Mr.  Rising  rendered  me  and  my  mother  and  my  poor 
little  brother  very  essential  service  those  days.'5 

"  Not  more,"  said  Jasper,  "  than  }'ou  rendered  me." 
For  Jasper  had,  more  than  once,  run  back  in  memory 
over  the  exceeding  wretchedness  of  that  sultry  after 
noon,  and  the  relief  from  it  which  had  come  as  soon  as 
his  life  was  twisted  in  with  some  other  life.  But  he  did 
not  choose  to  follow  back  that  thread  ;  and  lie  parried 
Bertha's  compliment  by  asking  after  her  brother,  and 
how  the  broken  leg  was.  This  started  them  on  another 
line  of  talk ;  and  Carl  Rounds,  seeing  his  Detroit 
friend  was  really  interested,  ami,  indeed,  his  Milwaukie 
friend  no  less  so,  left  them  to  their  mutual  discoveries, 
irentleman  as  he  was  ;  nor  lessened  the  pleasure  he  had 
given  t<>  each  by  t  rying  either  to  share  it  or  to  watch  it. 
So  Jasper  and  Bertha,  each  being  a  simple  and  unaf 
fected  person,  fell  at  once  into  the  most  natural  talk  in 
the  world;  and,  after  Bertha  had  eaten  her  ice.  they 
left  the  supper-table  to  follow  this  talk  out  in  the  cooler 
air  of  the  partly  deserted  dancing-rooms. 


TALK  AT  A  PARTY.  119 

"  I  hardly  think  so,"  said  Bertha,  as  she  took  her 
seat  on  the  sofa  to  which  he  led  her,  —  he  sitting  in  a 
little  chair  at  its  side,  —  "I  hardly  think  so.  Cer 
tainly,  the  people  I  am  most  fond  of —  well,  my  aunt 
and  my  mother — seem  to  say  just  the  right  thing  at 
the  right  moment,  without  ever  having  thought  any 
thing  about  it  before.  Just  the  wise  word,  or  the  bright 
joke,  or  the  true  answer,  comes  to  their  lips  ;  and  all 
poor  stupid  I  can  do  is  to  sit  and  wonder  how  they  pos 
sibly  can  know  so  much  or  talk  so  well.  I  don't  won 
der  that  all  children  think  their  fathers  and  mothers 
know  everything." 

"  I  am  sure  I  don't,"  said  Jasper.  "  I  always  thought 
my  uncle  knew  everything ;  and,  indeed,  I  think  so 
now.  But  I  guess  it  was  partly  because  he  put  me  so 
wholly  at  my  ease.  We  used  to  say  of  one  of  the  pro 
fessors,  when  I  was  in  college,  that  when  you  called 
upon  him  he  made  you  feel  as  if  you  were  the  best  fel 
low  in  the  world  ;  and  so  you  felt  that  he  was  the  next 
best." 

"  How  nice  that  must  have  been  !  I  know  such  peo 
ple  ;  but  I  am  not  going  to  own  that  I  over-estimate  my 
mother  and  my  aunt.  It  was  the  aunt  you  took  rne  to, 
the  basket-day.  Oh,  I  was  dreadfully  afraid  of  her 
then,  for  I  had  never  seen  her !  But  she  is  very 
lovely."  —  This  more  thoughtfully. 

Jasper  longed  to  say  he  thought  that  very  likely,  if 
the  aunt  were  anything  like  her  niece.  Probably  he 
would  have  said  so  eight  centuries  ago.  I  observe  that 
in  such  language  Lisuartes  spoke  to  Onoloria.  But  it 
was  not  eight  centuries  ago.  It  was  about  twenty-five 
years  ago.  And  Jasper,  not  being  a  fool,  strangled  his 
compliment. 

"  I  dare  say  you  are  right,"  said  he.  "  I  will  grant 
that  the  aunt,  whom  I  do  not  know,  and  the  mother, 
whom  I  do  know,  if  you  remember,  both  know  a  great 
deal  more  even  than  you  and  I  do.  But  don't  you  see 
they  ought  to?  they  have  been  knocked  about  a  groat 
deal  more.  You  and  I  have  been  to  school,  —  that's 
all.  We  have  studied  a  few  books.  These  other  peo- 


120  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

pie,  who  are  sp'nice  and  do  know  so  much,  have  studied 
people  and*  cities  and  nations ;  they  have  seen  moun 
tains  a'nd  oceans  ;  they  have  talked  with  ever  so  many 
people  worth  talking  to ;  and  they  have  tried  experi 
ments,  and  succeeded  sometimes,  and  failed  sometimes. 
I  am  glad  I  am  not  forty ;  but  I  should  have  a  great 
satisfaction  in  getting  at  the  prompt,  decisive  wisdom 
of  forty." 

Bertha  enjoyed  his  enthusiasm,  understanding  ver}r 
perfectly  what  he  meant.  When  she  had  heard  Wal 
lace  at  the  piano-forte,  brave,  direct,  thorough,  from 
the  beginning  to  the  end,  her  owrn  performance  seemed 
to  her  in  the  comparison  spongy,  muffled,  and  slopp}r ; 
and  she  had  almost  said  she  would  never  touch  the  keys 
again.  Now,  in  Jasper's  eulogy  on  the  "prompt,  de 
cisive  wisdom  of  forty,"  —  which  word  to  both  of  them 
meant  age  just  less  than  Methuselah's,  —  Bertha  rec 
ognized  her  own  delight  in  Wallace's  vigorous  playing. 
Yet,  she  said,  she  did  not  believe  that  the  sense  of 
power  came  merely  because  people  had  travelled,  had 
seen  oceans  and  continents,  and  men  and  women.  She 
also  knew  people  of  forty,  who  were  very  stupid  and 
very  spongy,  yet  thc}T  kept  going  over  the  world. 
There  were  such  people  at  her  father's  and  her  uncle's, 
—  "  and  here,"  she  was  going  to  say.  But  she  stopped. 

"I  dare  saj',".said  Jasper,  who  was  in  first-rate  spir 
its  now  ;  long  enough  it  was  since  he  had  found  himself 
talking  with  an  unaffected  woman,  who  was  willing  to 
tell  the  truth  even  in  the  tones  of  her  voice.  "  I  dare 
say.  I  suppose  they  had  seen  all  these  things  without 
seeing  them.  I  suppose  they  h:id  not  airy  imagination  ; 
if  they  had  not,  wh}T,  of  course  they  could  not  see  them. 
IVrhaps  they  never  indulged  in  day-dreaming." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  do,  Mr.  Rising?" 

"You  look  so  frightened,"  said  he,  laughing  again, 
"that  I  am  afraid  to  confess  it.  But  murder  will  out. 
I  do  sometimes  desert  my  carriage-shop  for  a  caslle  in 
the  air.  I  am  a  Carriage-builder,  .Miss  Sehwarx." 

"But,  —  really,  —  do  you  know  1  have  always  sup- 


TALK  AT  A  PAETJL  t )  121 


pOsecl,  —  i   have    tried    to   persuade 
must  not  build  castles  in  the  air.    I 
wrong." 

"  Right  or  wrong,"  said  Jasper,  heartily,  "  you  need 
not  tell  me  you  have  never  done  it ;  for  you  have ; 
and  what  is  more,  you  like  it,  Miss  Schwarz,  I  am 
sure." 

"To  tell  you  the  whole  truth,  I  do,"  said  Bertha, 
pretending  to  laugh  this  time,  but  really  a  little  un 
easy  ;  for  they  had  come  now  on  the  verge  of  what  was 
a  question  of  conscience  to  her,  regarding  which  she 
could  not  afford  to  joke,  because  she  was  not  certain. 
Jasper  was  too  sensitive  and  too  sympathetic  not  to 
catch  in  an  instant  the  drift,  both  of  her  thought  and 
feeling.  He  dropped  his  voice,  and  wholly  changed 
from  the  tone  of  half-banter,  to  say :  "Of  course, 
everj'thing  in  excess  is  wrong.  The  word  too  means 
wrong,  whether  we  say  too  much  or  too  little.  But 
God  could  never  have  given  us  this  power  of  withdraw 
ing  from  persecution,  mise^,  loneliness,  suifering, 
into  a  world  of  life  and  brightness,  if  we  were  not  to 
use  it  on  occasion.  Why !  you  have  only  to  take  the 
very  case  we  spoke  of,  —  of  the  experience  people  get 
in  advance,  so  that  they  shall  come  to  some  new  ex 
perience  as  if  they  had  seen  it  a  thousand  times,  —  you 
have  only  to  take  that  case  to  see  how  an  air-castle  may 
prepare  you  for  very  stern  emergenc}7." 

Bertha  was  pleased  with  his  confidence  in  her  good 
sense,  pleased  enough  to  lose  her  shyness  now ;  and 
she  said : 

"  Do  you  remember  Wordsworth, — 

'  Who,  in  the  heat  of  conflict,  keeps  the  law 
In  calmness  made,  and  sees  what  he  foresaw? '  " 

And  then  she  was  frightened  with  herself,  for  fear  she 
had  said  something  pretentious.  But  she  need  not 
have  been  afraid.  Jasper  was  as  much  in  earnest  as 
she ;  and  he  plunged  on,  wjth  quotations,  and  stories, 
recollections  of  his  own  and  experiences  of  other  peo- 


122  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

pie,  to  tell  her  the  good  which  he  had  found  in  some  of 
his  air-castles. 

"  In  some  of  them  !  "  said  Bertha.  "  I  do  not  be 
lieve  3*our  college  professors  thanked  3*011  for  building 
them  in  recitation-time,  as  3rou  sa3*  3*ou  did." 

"  Ah  !  "  said  he,  laughing  again,  "  as  to  that,  the3r 
had  to  take  their  chance.  It  was  their  business  to 
make  the  Greek  or  the  Latin  entertaining.  If  they 
did  not,  the  fault  was  not  mine.  And  so,  as  soon  as  I 
had  translated  1113'  ten  lines,  I  was  a  freeman  again, 
and  might  travel  where  I  chose,  —  hunting  deer  in 
Virginia,  crossing  ice-floes  with  Pany,  or  laying  out 
my  ornamental  grounds  at  home.  I  guess  it  did  me  as 
much  good  as  hearing  the  other  fellows  in  their  blun 
ders." 

But  it  will  never  do  to  tr3r  to  jot  down  the  corners 
or  trace  along  the  long  straight  courses  of  these  two 
young  folks'  talk,  in  this  happy  hour  when  the3T  dis 
covered  each  other.  After  all,  it  was  not  what  the3r 
said,  so  much  as  the  way  in  which  the3*  said  it,  which 
gave  to  that  little  talk  in  a  room  at  first  deserted,  and 
afterwards  gradually  filling  with  Compaq*,  a  charm  of 
its  own,  which  made  them  both  recall  it,  again  and 
again,  for  3'ears  upon  3*ears  after.  It  is  to  be  remem 
bered  first,  what  lonety  lives  the3r  had  both  been  lead 
ing,  —  lonel3T  as  to  real  comparison  of  experience  with 
people  of  S3Tmpath3T,  courage,  intelligence,  and  culture. 
It  is  to  be  remembered,  again,  that  each  regarded  the 
other  as  being  a  stranger,  who  was  entitled  to  a  cer 
tain  cordialit3'  of  manner  which  might  not  have  been 
awarded  to  one  to  the  place  or  manor  born.  Each, 
therefore,  went  rather  more  than  half-wa3r.  It  is  to  be 
remembered,  once  more,  that,  as  they  talked,  each  of 
them  once  and  again  recalled  the  thought  of  the  other, 
as  of  a  benefactor,  a  person  who  had  done  essential 
service  when  service  was  rare  indeed.  Most  of  all, 
and  beneath  all,  it  is  to  be  remembered,  that,  in  the 
Eternal  Order,  those  two  people  were  two  whose  lives 
harmonized  essential^,  absolutely,  and  completely  with 
each  other,  —  who  were  thus  meant  for  each  other  and 


TALK  AT  A  PAKTY.  123 

for  nobody  else ;  and  this  corner  of  Mrs.  Rosenstein's 
ball-room  was  the  place,  and  the  moment  when  her  sup 
per  was  ended  was  the  time,  when  the}'  were  first  to  find 
out  something  of  each  other.  The  talk  was  too  good 
to  last  forever.  Of  course  the  interruptions  of  space 
and  time  came  in.  Burton  came  along  w^ith  that  nice, 
sweet  Windermere  girl ;  and  Bertha  had  to  stop  them 
both,  and  to  introduce  Jasper  to  Miss  Windermere,  so 
that  she  might  herself  make  a  chance  to  say :  "  I  was 
very  sorry  to  lose  my  dance,  Mr.  Burton,  but  I  was 
under  orders.  If  I  were  bold  enough,  I  should  say, 
perhaps  we  might  have  it  at  some  other  time."  This 
was  a  great  deal  for  Bertha  to  say  ;  but  she  knew  that 
Carl  Rounds  had  told  Burton  the  whole  story,  and  that 
Burton  was  a  good  fellow  and  no  fool.  Then  Charlotte 
Rosenstein  came  running  up,  her  cheeks  all  aglow,  and. 
her  garb  all  awry,  and  Bertha  had  to  put  the  pretty 
silk  trail  in  order.  No,  Jasper  !  nothing  can  be  welded 
upon  this  bit  of  broken  talk  !  Take  it  home  with  you, 
and  make  the  best  of  it.  Remember  every  word  she 
said,  and  every  flush  of  conscious  or  unconscious  color 
that  rushed  over  her  cheek  when  she  had  the  least  diffi 
culty  in  expressing  herself.  Remember  the  courage 
of  her  eyes,  as  she  looked  you  full  in  the  face, 
when  j'ou  tried  to  explain  your  notion  ;  remember  the 
depth  eternal  into  which  you  could  look  in  them  as  she 
listened  with  surprise,  if  you  spoke  of  something  which 
she  had  thought  was  one  of  her  own  discoveries,  but 
which  she  found  now  you  had  thought  out  as  well  as 
she  ;  remember  how  the  long  eyelash  fairly  dropped  on 
her  cheek,  when  she  looked  down  again,  afraid  lest  she 
had  said  too  much,  either  in  quoting  Wordsworth,  or  in 
owning  to  some  great  enjoyment  or  some  great  sorrow. 
Take  all  this  home  with  you,  Jasper ;  repeat  it  and  re- 
imagine  it  to  yourself,  again  and  again  and  again. 
Keep  it  all,  forever,  for  one  of  the  treasures  of  }'our 
life.  But  you  cannot  have  any  more  to-night.  "The 
party  is  in  full  blast  again.  You  must  dance  with 
somebody,  —  Adelaide  Rosenstein  or  Miss  Windermere. 
9 


124  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

Go  find  yourself  a  partner.  And  leave  Bertha  here ; 
her  other  partners  will  come  to  try  to  persuade  her  to 
break  her  resolution  and  to  waltz  again ;  and  these 
other  girls  will  come  and  sit  on  the  sofa  beside  her. 
You  cannot  take  your  nice  first  talk  and  weld  upon  it 
anything  more ! 


FAINT,   YET  PURSUING.  125 


FAINT,   YET    PURSUING. 

"A  /TEANWIIILE  our  friend  Oscar  was  left  in  charge 
-"£L  of  the  carriage-factory  in  Detroit,  or,  boy-fashion, 
supposed  he  was.  Mr.  Dundas  or  Mr.  BufFum  would 
have  been  amazed  had  they  known  the  weight  of  the 
responsibility  which  rested  on  his  shoulders  as  soon  as 
his  "  master'"  was  gone.  The  loyalty  of  his  allegiance 
to  Jasper  was  no  greater  in  his  absence. than  in  his 
presence.  But,  so  soon  as  he  started  on  his  little  tour 
westward  from  Detroit,  the  boy  conceived  that  the  time 
had  come  for  him  to  watch  over  every  interest  for  which 
his  "  master,"  as  he  called  him,  could  have  cared,  were 
he  at  home. 

It  had  always  been  a  matter  of  grief  to  Oscar  that 
the  carriage-shop  should  be  left  at  night  unguarded. 
Once  and  again  he  had  asked  Jasper  whether  it  would 
not  be  better  to  have  a  watchman  there,  or  at  the  least, 
to  let  the  apprentices  take  turns  in  sleeping  there. 
Nothing  could  have  proved  his  loyalty  in  a  more 
pathetic  wajr  than  this  ;  for,  if  there  were  any  special 
joy  in  Oscar's  life,  it  was  in  the  golden  hour  of  all, 
when  he  and  Jasper  were  in  their  own  room,  before 
going  to  bed,  —  when  the  concert  or  lecture  or  caucus, 
or  other  evening  occupation,  was  over,  which  had  called 
Jasper  away,  —  when  he  threw  himself  on  the  outside  of 
his  bed,  and  talked  with  the  eager  boy  about  the  day's 
work,  or  read  to  him  may  be  from  the  last  Dickens,  or  let 
Oscar  read  slowly  to  him,  that  he  might  help  him  both 
about  his  reading  and  his  English.  When  the  clock  struck 
ten,  Jasper  would  rouse  up,  and  begin  to  undress.  But 
they  made  long  talk  while  the  undressing  went  on  ;  and 


126  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

it  might  be  eleven  before  the  boy  was  well  asleep  on  his 
side  the  room,  and  his  "  master "  on  the  other.  For 
Oscar  to  offer,  of  his  own  accord,  to  give  up  this  special 
luxury,  that  he  might  sleep  in  a  little  room  in  the  varnish- 
ing-shed,  was  thorough  proof  of  his  devotion.  As  such, 
Jasper  accepted  it.  But  he  never  listened  for  a  moment 
to  the  proposal.  Not  that  in  those  days  there  was  a  very 
efficient  street-patrol  in  Detroit,  but  that  the  customs  of 
the  place  were  simple,  and  no  one  had  as  yet  found 
much  need  of  night-watchmen. 

No  sooner  was  Jasper  gone,  however,  than  Oscai 
renewed  his  proposals,  making  them  this  time  to  Mr. 
Dundas,  the  partner  with  whom  he  had  most  to  do. 
"  You  no  know,  Mr.  Dundas,  —  I  mean  you  do  not  know, 
what  many  kind  bad  men,  loaf  men,  you  say,  go  come, 
come  go,  up  down,  down  up  all  the  street,  every  street, 
yes,  in  Detroit  ever}T  night ;  yes,  Mr.  Dundas.  You  no 
know,  because  you  have  night  home  to  live  in  ;  pleasant 
home,  pretty  home,  nice  home  with  fire,  home  with  lamp, 
home  with  wife.  You  no  go  come,  —  I  mean  you  have 
not  known  how  to  go  come  up  street,  down  street,  all 
night,  all  evening,  }res.  Sleep  in  old  cask,  sleep  in  old 
pig-shed,  sleep  on  deck  of  steamboat,  3Tes,  when  all 
night  watch  go  down  in  forehatch  and  run  awa}r.  Great 
many  men  go  up  street,  down  street ;  yes,  all  loaf  men, 
drink  men,  smoke  men,  swear  men,  steal  men.  Loaf 
man,  smoke  man,  smoke  old  twisted  long-nine ;  can't 
smoke  him  all,  all  too  bad  to  smoke ;  man  want  talk, 
want  swear,  want  fight,  he  throw  awa}'  old  long-nine  all 
on  fire,  Mr.  Dundas.  Old  long-nine  he  go  right  in 
straw  in  our  yard,  where  that  boy  Jem  unpack  the  cast 
ings  ;  no  sweep  straw  away ;  wind  blow,  wind  blow, 
straw  burn,  barrel  burn,  clapboard  burn,  varnish  room 
burn,  all  one  great  night  fire  ;  no  engine,  no  Mr.  Jas 
per,  no  nobody  ;  —  all  new  carriages  burn  up,  all  count 
ing-room  burn  up ;  Mr.  Jasper  come  home,  and  say, 
'Dundas, — BulFum  —  Oscar,'  he  say,  — '  what  for,  where 
gone  all  wagons,  all  carriage?'  Yes,  Mr.  Dundas, 
that  what  he  say.  Now,  Mr.  Dundas,  I  sleep  lit  lie 
cubby  room,  varnish-shed ;  yes,  Mr.  Dimdas,  I  sleep 


FAINT,   YET  PUE SUING.  127 

there.  I  smell  old  long-nine,  I  smell  straw  ;  Yes,  Mr. 
Dimdas,  I  smell  everything.  I  jump  up  bed,  —  one  lit 
tle  dipper  water,  Mr.  Dundas,  —  old  long-nine,  he,  }~es, 
all  wet,  straw  all  wet ;  no  fire,  wagon  safe,  carriage 
safe,  all  safe.  O  Mr.  Dundas !  let  me  sleep  varnish- 
shed?" 

But  Dundas  did  not  see  it.  Perhaps  he  thought 
that  if  Oscar  slept  there,  all  the  boys  would  have  rights 
there.  Perhaps  he  thought  he  would  rather  take  the 
chance  of  the  wandering  long-nine  once  in  a  while, 
than  the  certainty,  more  or  less  approximate,  of  four 
bo}'S  plaj'ing  all  fours  at  their  will  in  the  varnish-room  ; 
and  Mr.  Dundas  laughed  at  Oscar's  fears,  and  refused 
the  coveted  permission. 

So  far  was  he  right,  that  the  long-nine  accident  did 
not  happen,  and  the  carriage  factory  did  not  burn 
down. 

But  none  the  less  did  Oscar  keep  an  eagle  eye  on  the 
shop.  He  had  ke}'s  to  open  the  outer  doors  with.  And 
at  midnight  every  night  the  boy  walked  down  there,  and 
went  in  and  went  the  rounds  to  be  sure  that  all  was  as 
it  should  be.  Not  that  any  one  knew  this,  till  he  told 
it  afterwards  to  Jasper.  It  was  the  only  satisfaction 
he  could  take,  and  it  helped  him  through  his  master's 
absence. 

The  very  afternoon,  as  it  happened,  of  Mrs.  Rosen- 
stein's  ball,  poor  Oscar,  also,  had  been  entrapped  into 
a  party  of  pleasure.  No  !  dear  Lily,  —  or  other  kind 
reader,  —  you  need  not  be  afraid  that  he  was  lured 
away  by  bad  bo}*s  or  worse  men  to  drink  or  to  gamble. 
It  was  a  very  modest  party  of  pleasure,  and  one  I  hope 
you  might  have  joined  in,  had  you  then  been  alive. 
There  were  three  nice  }'oung  women,  who  lived  in  the 
same  boarding-house  with  Oscar  and  Jasper,  with 
whom  the  young  men  had  gro'wn  to  be  more  intimate 
than  with  any  of  the  others  of  the  boarders,  from  the 
accident,  I  believe,  that  they  all  went  to  church  to 
gether.  Two  of  them  were  sisters  ;  and  another,  a 
school-mistress  she,  came  from  the  same  town  in  Maino 
as  they.  As  the  winter  closed,  Oscar  hud  made  a  great 


128  UPS  AND  D  0  WNS. 

point  of  teaching  them  all  to  skate,  as  he  said  his  sis 
ters  and  mother  did  on  the  fiords  at  home.  Excepting 
on  the  North  River,  I  think  skating  was  then  almost 
wholly  unknown  to  American  women,  and  at  first  these 
three  girls  thought  it  among  the  impossibilities.  But 
Jasper,  with  his  tales  of  Schuylers  and  De  Windts  and 
Roosevelts,  in  New  York,  and  his  talk  of  Dutch  canals, 
and  Oscar,  in  his  pleasant  broken  English  and  his 
really  earnest  boyish  persuasion,  had  overcome  all 
their  prejudices  ;  and  many  a  time  they  had  all  gone 
down  together,  to  a  bend  there  is  in  the  river,  some 
little  distance  below  the  heart  of  the  city,  where,  after 
a  while,  the  }Toung  people  of  course  found  the  exercise 
as  possible  and  pleasant  in  Michigan  as  in  Holland. 
The  skating  had  gone  with  the  ice ;  but  the  girls,  or 
young  ladies,  as  you  choose  to  call  them,  had  not  for 
gotten  the  pretty  manly  courtesy  with  which  Oscar  had 
managed  to  make  everything  pleasant  and  easy  in  their 
skating  practice  ;  and  now  that  they  saw  him  chafing 
and  restless  under  his  friend's  absence,  they  concerted 
to  make  a  little  pleasure-party  which  might  take  him 
out  from  himself,  for  at  least  one  afternoon. 

So  they  told  him  that  the  spring  was  opening  so 
earl}-,  that  they  believed  they  could  find  some  of  the 
earliest  spring  flowers  in  a  bosky  place  they  were  wont 
to  go  to,  not  so  very  far  from  the  old  skating-grounds, 
and  that  they  were  going  to  try  their  luck  on  this  par 
ticular  afternoon,  and  would  not  he  join  them?  Oscar 
was  glad  to  say  yes.  "  I  fond  of  flowers,  Mees  Delia  ; 
my  dear  mother  glad  of  flowers  too  ;  my  sister  Gretchen 
fond  of  flowers  too;  yes,  all  glad  of  flowers, — pretty 
blue  spring  flower,  little  veilchen,  Mees  Delia>  close 
next  snow-water  at  home,  yes,  Mees  Delia,  close 
next  the  snow."  He  begged  leave  to  go  away  from 
work  early,  left  old  Dan  to  shut  up  the  factory,  and  in 
his  best  rig  was  ready  to  escort  the  young  people  at 
four  o'clock. 

Mr.  liui! MMI  h:id  heard  of  the  party,  and  had  taken 
lliriii  all  by  surprise  by  driving  out  so  as  to  intercept 
them,  in  the  great  job-wagon  of  the  factor}',  on  which 


FAINT,   YET  PURSUING.  129 

he  had  improvised  a  new  cross-seat.  He  took  them  all 
on  board,  so  that  they  were  all  saved  their  walk  out, 
and  had  the  longer  time  for  their  exploration ;  and  a 
ineny  afternoon,  not  unsuccessful  in  its  foraging,  they 
made  of  it,  after  he  left  them  to  its  fortunes.  With 
more  moss  than  flowers,  but  still  with  no  poor  show  of 
maple-blossoms,  willow-catkins,  violets,  and  other  tri 
umphs  of  spring,  they  came  out  near  the  high-road  to  a 
little  copse  of  willows  they  had  been  aiming  at,  on  their 
return  ;  and  then  "  Mees  Delia  "  triumphantly  produced 
from  the  concealed  parcel  at  the  bottom  of  her  baskot, 
enough  buttered  biscuits  and  dried  beef  to  answer  for 
an  unexpected  picnic  supper.  They  were  just  tired 
enough  to  sit  down,  and  under  the  lee  of  the  great  wil 
low  pollards  it  seemed  warm  enough  for  them  to  dare 
do  so.  Oscar  ga}'ly  took  his  own  water  cup  and  Mary 
Frazer's,  and  went  down  to  the  road  to  bring  some 
water  from  a  trough  they  had  noticed  there. 

As  he  came  to  the  trough  he  noticed  that  the  three 
ill-looking  men  who  w^ere  standing  smoking,  by  the 
door  of  the  wretched  blacksmith-shop  close  b}T,  were 
talking  in  the  loud,  bickering  tone  of  men  who  had 
drunk  more  than  was  good  for  them  ;  and  in  a  moment 
more  it  was  clear  enough  that  they  were  talking  Ger 
man.  The  words  that  caught  Oscar's  ear  were  a  stupid, 
mulish  exclamation : 

"  Nimm  alle  drei,  nimm  alle  drei ;  lass  kein  stehen." 
"  Take  all  three,  take  all  three ;  do  not  leave  any." 
"  Take   three,  lose   all,"  replied  one  of  the  others, 
as  sententiously,  but  with  less  liquor  in  his  tone  and 
senses. 

To  Oscar's  ear  the  language  was  almost  as'  familiar 
as  his  own.  But  the  men  were  careless  of  his  presence, 
as  he  filled  the  mugs  ;  and  the  man  most  drunk  of  the 
three  repeated  stolidly,  "  Take  all  three,  take  all  three, 
—  one  for  you,  one  for  you.  one  for  me  and  my  brown 
mare." 

When  Oscar  saw  that  it  was  for  a  mare  that  some 
thing  was  to  be  taken,  his  curiosity  was  just  enough 
roused  to  make  him  loiter  a  moment,  and  rinse  out  a 
9 


130  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

mug  at  the  trough,  not  supposing  for  an  instant  that  he 
was  listening  to  secrets. 

"  You  take  three,"  said  the  brain  possessor,  "  and 

you  wake  the  whole  street.  Three  wagons  make  a 

rattle  in  a  still  night.  Take  one,  with  the  two  mares, 
and  3*011  shall  be  in  Toledo  before  morning." 

Oscar  did  not  dare  wait  a  moment  longer.  With  his 
two  full  mugs  he  returned  to  the  simple  picnic,  and 
tried  to  take  his  part  in  its  hospitalities  heartily.  But 
he  could  not  come  to  the  unconsciousness  and  ease  with 
which  Jasper  the  same  evening  talked  to  Bertha.  Os 
car  all  this  fortnight  had  a  heavy  respousibilit}*  at 
heart,  and  this  about  mares  and  wagons  frightened 
him.  He  tried  to  conceal  this  from  his  companions, 
and  perhaps  he  succeeded.  They  still  had  their  long 
walk  before  them.  But  the  weather  was  quite  too  cool 
for  long  lounging  at  their  little  supper,  and  they  were 
soon  briskly  walking  into  town. 

Oscar  went  fairly  home  with  them,  and  made  his 
good-l)3*es  in  his  pleasant,  frank  way.  "  Yes,  Mees 
Delia,  we  have  what  3*011  say  —  3*es,  we  have  truly  nice 
time,  also  especially  when  we  get  what  you  sa3*  wet 
moss,  fresh  moss,  not  wet  moss,  —  yes,.  3*es,  Mees 
Delia,  we  shall  go  another  summer  da3*."  And  he  was 
gone. 

Back  to  the  shop  he  went,  as  quickly  as  he  might. 
Into  the  shop  he  went,  and,  of  course  almost,  the  three 
newly-finished  top-wagons  which  he  went  to  find  were 
there,  just  as  he  had  left  them.  But  how  long  would 
the3T  be  there  ?  Who  should  he  tell  his  fears  to  ?  Old 
Dan  was  a  new-comer,  and  Oscar  did  not  know  where 
he  lived.  There  was  one  of  the  hands  only  a  few 
blocks  off,  but  Oscar  did  not  like  him.  He  was  a  Ger 
man,  and  to  the  boy's  excited  fancy  might  be  an  ac 
complice  of  the  men  he  was  afraid  of.  Of  course  Oscar 
ought  to  have  gone  to  the  police-station.  But  he  had 
IK- VIM-  recovered  from  his  terrors,  in  seeing  the  hand- 
cuil'ed  man  curried  away  b3'  the  strong  arm  of  law, — 
he  had  the  dislike  of  government  and  its  oflk-ials  which 
most  people  have  who  are  educated  on  the  eastern  side 


FAINT,   YET  TUE SUING.  131 

of  the  Atlantic,  from  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer  downward. 
For  an  hour  the  boy  la}'  in  ambush  in  the  counting- 
room  ;  then  he  went  down  into  the  yard,  and  busied 
himself  about  the  wagons  for  half  an  hour.  Then  he 
worked  for  an  hour  in  barricading  the  gate  of  the  yard 
with  the  nearest  logs  he  could  draw  up,  and  with  a 
drag-chain  which  he  brought  from  the  shed.  It  was 
nearly  eleven  now.  The  street  was  quiet,  the  boy  had 
done  all  he  could  do,  and  the  reaction  had  come  on  him. 
Perhaps  he  was  all  wrong. 

Anywa}',  if  he  were  right,  ought  he  not  have  told 
Mr.  Dundas  or  Mr.  Buffum?  Of  course  he  would  have 
told  Jasper  in  a  moment. 

Poor  Oscar,  who  knew  he  could  have  done  right  had 
this  been  a  Norwegian  problem,  was  not  so  certain 
here.  But  he  looked  up  the  street  and  down  the  street ; 
he  locked  the  counting-room  door  behind  him,  and  ran, 
at  his  very  best,  to  Mr.  Buffum' s  house.  He  went  there 
because  it  was  nearest,  though  he  did  not  like  him  as 
well  as  he  did  Mr.  Dundas. 

He  pulled  at  the  bell,  perhaps  too  loudly. 

Mrs.  Buffum,  herself,  came  to  the  door,  frightened 
too.  But,  to  Oscar's  dismay,  it  proved  that  her  husband 
was  not  yet  at  home,  —  was  at  a  lodge-meeting.  Could 
Oscar,  perhaps,  go  to  the  lodge  ? 

No,  Oscar  could  not  go  to  the  lodge.  He  had  very 
vague  and  very  exaggerated  ideas  as  to  the  institution 
of  Freemasonary ;  and,  fearless  as  he  was,  he  knew 
that  now  time  was  his  greatest  need.  He  explained  in 
his  broken  way  what  his  fears  were  to  Mrs.  Buffum. 

"I  work  in  the  shop  —  you  shop,  you  husband's 
shop.  To-day  I  hear  three  German  blackguard  speak 
German.  The}'  say,  '  Take  three,  no  leave  two.'  Other 
one  say,  '  Take  one,  leave  two.'  The}'  want  to  take 
three  new  top-buggy.  Yes,  three  new  top-buggy.  Tell 
Mr.  Bufium,  he  come  quick  —  real  quick,  to  shop ; 
three  men  want  take  three  nice  new  top-buggy.  Yes. 
Good-by." 

And  he  was  gone,  leaving  Mrs.  Buffum  more  alarmed 


132  VPS  AND  DOWNS. 

than  ever  she  was  in  her  life,  and  wondering  when  the 
lodge  would  break  up  that  evening. 

And  for  Oscar,  there  was  nothing  left  but  to  scud  on, 
more  than  a  mile,  to  Dundas's  house.  Why  had  he  not 
gone  there  first  of  all  ?  Perhaps  his  three  blackguards 
were  now  storming  his  entrenchments.  Should  he  not 
go  back  and  see  ?  Not  he.  What  he  had  begun  on,  he 
would  put  through.  Short  way  he  made  of  the  still 
streets  as  he  sped  to  Dundas's.  This  house  was  dark. 
A  loud  ring  again,  and  another  ;  and  then  the  window 
opened,  and  to  Oscar's  happy  eyes  Mr.  Dundas's  head 
appeared. 

"  O  Mr.  Dundas  !  "  gasped  the  breathless  boy,  "  come 
down  to  shop.  Come  quick  ;  come  now." 

"  What's  the  matter,  Oscar  ?     There's  no  fire  ?  " 

"  No  fire,  Mr.  Dundas.  No,  no  fire.  Three  German 
loafer  —  three,  Mr.  Dundas  ;  3~es,  three,  want  to  bring 
three  mares,  Mr.  Dundas ;  yes,  three  mares,  and  steal 
our  new  top-buggies,  —  three  new  top-buggies.  Come 
quick,  Mr.  Dundas  !  " 

Dundas  knew  the  bo}r  was  no  fool.  He  slammed  his 
window  down,  and  in  less  than  a  minute  was  at  the 
door,  half  covered  with  his  clothes,  to  let  him  in.  Os 
car  briefly  told  his  story.  Dundas's  first  thought  was 
that  the  boy's  anxiety  had  deceived  him.  Still  he  bade 
him  return  as  quickly  as  he  could,  taking  the  city  jail 
on  his  wa}',  where  he  could  certainty  find  an  officer ; 
and  Dundas  wrote  a  line  on  the  back  of  the  firm's  card, 
as  a  voucher  for  the  boy.  lie  tpld  Oscar  he  would  fol 
low  as  soon  as  he  was  dressed.  And  again  poor  Oscar 
tried  his  speed  in  the  silent  streets,  loath  indeed  to  lose 
so  much  distance  as  his  run  to  the  police  head-quarter- 
ters  required. 

To  give  them  their  due,  there  was  little  red  tape 
there.  The  moment  Oscar  told  his  stor}T,  the  captain 
nodded  wUh  understanding,  and  at  once  named  the 
more  intelligent  of  Oscar's  three  Germans  by  his  sin ng 
name  ;  at:  least,  lie  hazarded  a  guess.  "Hamburg  Mike 
again,"  said  he  in  :i  halt-aloud.  "  Run  down,  003-,  as 
quick  as  you  can,"  said  he;  "though  nobody  can  tell 


FAINT,   YET  PURSUING.  133 

whether  it  is  not  all  moonshine.  As  like  as  not  they 
are  at  the  Central  Stables  or  at  Wild  &  Thurston's.  I 
only  wonder  all  the  horses  and  all  the  carriages  in 
Detroit  are  not  stole  once  a  month.  I'll  have  two  men 
there  as  quick  as  you  can  get  there  ! " 

Poor  Oscar  sped  again ;  tired,  but  not  flagging, 
"  faint,  yet  pursuing."  Streets  still  as  ever,  till  he 
turned  his  last  corner  but  one.  Did  he  not  hear  the 
rapid  rattle  of  wheels?  Down  into  the  long  avenue 
which  but  just  now  was  so  silent.  It  is  dark  as  Egypt, 
—  onl}-  a  cloudy  sk}T,  —  but  the  wretched  boy's  ear  does 
not  deceive  him.  The  sharp,  hard  rat-tat-tat  of  the 
hoofs  and  the  wheels  in  the  long  distance  is  only  too 
clear.  Will  he  never  come  to  the  shop?  Yes,  he  is 
here  at  last ;  and  in  the  darkness  it  is  still  easy  enough 
to  make  out  that  there  has  been  little  pains  about  locks 
and  keys.  The  whole  great  gate  is  dragged  out  of  the 
way.  One  of  the  rotten  posts  has  been  easih'  enough 
sawed  off ;  and  all  Oscar's  barricade  and  chain  as  easil}^ 
pulled  into  the  street ;  and  the  u  three  new  top-bugg}~, 
alle  drci"  are  "  alle  verloren,  gegangen,  all  gone." 
There  is  only  on  the  still  air,  the  slight  rat-a-tat  to  tell 
which  way  the}*  sped. 

A  minute  was  enough  for  Oscar  to  light  a  lantern 
and  see  that  all  was  gone.  As  he  turned  into  the  street 
again,  Mr.  Dundas  came  down,  and  in  an  instant  took 
in  the  situation.  Not  because  he  saw  much  use  in  it, 
but  because  he  wanted  to  do  something,  he  joined  Os 
car  in  the  unequal  pursuit.  They  could  hear  the  two 
officers  approaching,  and  they  called  to  them  to  follow. 
All  sound  of  rattling  was  over,  however,  and  in  a 
minute  poor  Mr.  Dundas  refused  to  run.  To  Oscar's 
quick  blood,  the  slow  pace  he  took  was  a  misery  and  an 
indignity ;  but  it  gave  the  officers  a  chance  to  join. 
Oscar  in  advance,  they  all  pressed  on. 

Nor  in  vain ! 

Five  minutes  brought  them  to  a  corner  whence  they 
looked  down  riverward  to  see  moving  lights,  and 
though  there  was  no  rattle,  to  hear  talking  and  shout- 


134  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

ing.  Even  Dunclas  could  trot  again  now,  and  in  a 
moment  they  joined  what  was  already  a  noisy  throng. 

One  "  top-bugg}',"  with  a  panting,  startled  horse, 
was  secure  in  the  grasp  of  a  newly-awakened  wharf- 
laborer.  One  top-buggy  was  prostrate,  making  ko-tou 
on  the  street,  because  it  had  no  forewheels.  The  third, 
a  little  in  advance,  was  in  the  same  position, 

The  three  "blackguards"  had  taken  this  narrow 
street  with  success ;  but,  as  the  leading  horse  dashed 
over  a  deep  gutter  which  crossed  it,  the  king-bolt  had 
given  away,  the  horse  had  sprung  forward  with  the  front 
wheels,  and  the  shock  had  been  so  sudden,  that,  by  the 
reins,  he  had  drawn  "Hamburg  Mike"  heavily  forward 
on  the  stones.  He  lay  on  the  sidewalk,  wholly  without 
sense,  as  Dundas  and  Oscar  came  up. 

Oscar's  drunken  friend  was  the  next  in  order.  He 
had  turned  from  the  wreck  sharpty,  and  swung  against 
the  curb-stone.  Exactly  the  same  accident  happened 
to  him.  But  he  was  so  far  forewarned,  that,  as  his 
horse  went  off  with  wheels  and  reins,  he  himself  aban 
doned  the  wreck,  and  of  his  own  volition,  vanished  into 
the  darkness. 

The  third  driver  had  tried  to  turn  short  round.  But 
t^his  horse  had  probably  balked  and  refused.  For  some 
reason  he  also  had  left  his  prize  and  was  gone. 

The  crash  had  roused  a  drinking-party  in  a  neighbor 
ing  bar-room,  and  their  oaths  and  wonderments  had 
wakened  the  nearest  sleepers.  With  different  lights, 
and  in  different  costumes,  a  motle}r  assembly  was  ex 
amining  the  wreck,  a  few  of  the  more  humane  trying 
what  could  be  done  with  the  senseless  man. 

Dundas  stood  by  one  of  the  broken  carriages,  trying 
to  lift  it  enough  to  see  how  it  had  fallen. 

"  Well,  Dundas,"  said  an  officer,  "  I  did  not  know 
your  carriages  smashed  up  the  first  time  they  went  over 
a  gutter." 

Dundas  was  a  little  sore  in  the  midst  of  triumph. 

"  Nor  I  either,"  said  he  ;  "  and  I  don't  see  through 
it  now." 

"  See  here  !  Mr.  Dundas,"  said  Oscar,  with  his  face  in 


FAINT,   YET  PUBSUING.  135 

r 

a  light  blaze.  "  See  here.  I  show  you  through  it."  And 
as  the  officer  and  Dundas  lifted,  Oscar  stooped  down, 
and  pulled  out  a  broken  plug  of  pine-wood  from  the 
wreck.  "  I  took  out  all  three  ;  yes,  all  three  king-bolt. 
I  took  out  all  three  ;  I  put  in  three  wooden  pegs.  Yes, 
three  wooden  pegs.  Yes.  Pegs  not  last  long.  No." 

The  bright  boy  had  had  the  wit  to  remember,  that, 
if  the  wagons  were  dismantled  in  the  }*ards,  there 
might  be  time  enough  while  he  was  gone,  to  put  one,  at 
least,  in  running  order.  But,  leaving  them  as  he  did,  he 
led  his  three  enemies  into  the  lure  he  meant.  And  the 
wagons  gave  wa}T,  just  where  repairs  were  not  easy. 

"  Good  for  you,  Oscar  !  You've  saved  Mr.  Jasper's 
carriages." 

Dundas  knew  that  Jasper's  name  would  please  the 
boy  more  than  any  word  of  praise  that  he  could  think 
of. 

As  they  crossed  to  the  throng  who  were  bending  over 
the  senseless  German,  — 

"  You  can  put  up  your  brandy,"  said  the  doctor,  who 
had  stripped  the  man's  chest,  and  was  feeling  at  his 
heart.  "  Put  up  your  brandy.  He  will  never  taste 
liquor  again." 


136  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

HE   AND    SHE. 

TT  seemed  worth  while  to  tell  this  story  of  poor  Os- 
-  car's  recovery  of  the  wagons,  because  the  whole 
transaction  marked  a  stage  in  the  dear  fellow's  life. 
The}"  all  had*  been  fond  of  him,  in  the  shop,  before. 
But,  after  this  bit  cf  presence  of  mind  and  gallantly, 
everybody  respected  him ;  and,  in  such  a  place,  there 
are  a  dozen  little  promotions  possible,  by  which  the 
general  favor  can  be  shown  to  an  apprentice.  Jasper 
was  at  home  again  before  long  ;  and  he  took  more  than 
one  wa}T  and  time  to  thank  Oscar  for  his  spirit,  and  to 
let  the  grateful  fellow  feel,  what  it  had  always  been 
hard  for  him  to  understand,  that  all  the  gratitude  was 
not  to  be  on  the  one  side. 

I  will  not  say  but  we  might  follow  along  the  Ups  and 
Downs  of  the  shop,  its  rivalry  with  other  shops,  the 
successes  of  its  work  in  quarters  which  gave  new  cus 
tomers,  and  the  gradual  confidence  which  Buffum,  Dun- 
das,  and  Jasper,  the  three  members  of  the  firm,  grew 
to  have  in  each  other.  Nor  will  I  sa}',  but,  in  a  mas 
ter's  hands,  the  mere  details  of  whilfle-trees,  and  patent 
axles,  and  enamelled  cloth,  and  neat's  oil,  might  not 
furnish  out  a  romance  as  interesting  as  the  tale  of  the 
touni:iniont  at  Ashby  de  la  Zouch.  Given  the  master, 
I  think  it  would.  The  firm  was  a  good  firm.  Ideality, 
realism,  caution,  and  daring,  were  well  intermingled  ; 
mid  all  the  three  men  were  men  of  truth  and  honor. 
Of  course  they  grumbled  sometimes  at  each  other  ;  they 
sometimes  secretly  wished,  even  for  hours,  that  they 
had  never  seen  each  other.  But  none  the  less  was  it, 


HE  AND  SHE.  137 

in  truth,  a  good  firm ;  and  lucky  was  it  for  them  all, 
that  they  were  united  in  it. 

But  it  is  not  the  business  of  this  story  to  follow  out 
only  one  of  the  shorter  phases  of  Jasper's  life,  or  of 
Oscar's.  And  I  must  ask  the  reader  to  imagine  for 
himself,  on  the  hints  which  have  been  given,  the  hopes 
and  fears,  successes  and  drawbacks,  of  these  young 
manufacturers  in  what  was  still  a  young  city  ;  though 
its  date  as  a  frontier  post  ran  back  so  far.  For  Jasper 
himself,  life  had  its  dark  sides,  of  course ;  but  it  had 
its  bright  sides  in  much  larger  proportion.  Seeing  he 
was  healthy,  honest,  faithful,  and  brave,  that  was  of 
course  true.  Oscar  was  a  great  comfort,  —  indeed,  he 
was  a  great  blessing ;  for  it  was  due  to  Oscar  that  there 
was  no  danger  that  Jasper  should  be  too  much  alone. 
Except  for  this,  that  danger  would  have  come  in.  For 
Jasper  was  proud.  And  he  had  not  forgotten,  in  his 
more  recent  experience  of  a  kind  of  prosperity,  that 
there  had  been  days  when  he  had  walked  about  these 
same  streets,  driven  from  door  to  door,  without  any 
body's  caring  whether  he  lived  or  died.  So  he  could 
not  naturally  drop  into  the  society  of  the  town,  which 
opened  before  him.  I  do  not  doubt  that  he  was  wrong 
in  this.  His  truer  theory  of  life  would  be,  to  let  b}'- 
gones  go  as  by-gones,  and  to  make  the  utmost  out  of  to 
day,  meeting  rather  more  than  half-way  such  people  as 
met  him.  But  Jasper  was  not  a  saint.  He  remembered 
those  odious  calls  here  and  there  when  he  was  looking 
for  something  to  "  turn  up "  ;  and  he  could  not  bring 
himself  to  meet  those  same  people  again,  pretending 
that  he  liked  them  or  respected  them. 

So  it  would  have  been  apt  to  happen,  that  he  would 
have  dropped  back,  of  evenings,  into  a  habit  of  sitting 
late  to  read ;  he  would  have  taken  up  again  the  "  Sar 
tor  Resartus,"  the  "'Menzel's  German  Literature,"  the 
scraps  from  Cousin  and  Jouffroy,  which  had  been  the 
rage  when  he  left  Cambridge,  lie  would  have  made  an 
Index  Jlerum  out  of  these  books,  and  would  gradually 
have  persuaded  himself  that  he  was  a  truly  remarkable 
literary  man,  sadly  unappreciated,  and  that  Detroit  was 


138  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

a  very  boorish  and  unsjinpathetic  place,  into  which  no 
man  of  culture  or  intelligence  should  ever  be  sent ; 
while  the  truth  would  have  been,  that  Mr.  Jasper  Ris 
ing,  bachelor  of  arts,  was  growing  to  be  a  very  boorish 
and  unsympathetic  man,  not  bearing  his  own  part  in 
the  social  S3'stem  to  which  he  belonged.  From  this 
delusion  and  foil}'  Oscar  saved  him. 

They  took  long  walks  together.  For  twenty  minutes, 
as  they  began  these  walks,  Jasper  drilled  him  on  his 
English,  determined,  that,  as  the  bo}r  became  a  man,  he 
should  speak  without  foreign  accent.  He  made  sedulous 
stucty  of  the  anatomy  of  the  vocal  organs,  and  of  the 
analysis  of  sound,  and  drilled  the  boy  on  careful  sys 
tem,  and  with  wonderful  results.  Oscar  called  this 
twenty  minutes,  "  going  to  school."  This  school  would 
bring  them  outside  of  the  pig-pens  and  shanties  of  the 
outskirts  ;  and  then  they  could  enjoy  summer,  autumn, 
or  winter,  as  it  might  be.  Jasper  would  lecture,  and 
Oscar  would  listen,  learnedly  and  eagerly,  of  whatever 
might  be  before  them.  The  youngster  who  has  lately 
graduated  knows  a  little  about  botany,  a  little  about 
farming,  a  little  about  the  clouds  and  the  weather,  a 
little  about  the  shape  of  the  snow-flakes,  a  little  about 
the  forming  of  the  ice  on  the  streams  :  he  knows  a  little 
about  everything.  Veiy  good.  That  is  what  he  was 
sent  to  his  college  for,  —  to  lay  a  foundation  on  which, 
when  the  time  came,  he  might  build  such  edifice  as  the 
good  God  might  order.  And  so  Jasper  was  prepared, 
sufficiently  well,  to  hold  forth  to  Oscar  on  this  or  that 
or  another  thesis ;  and  Oscar  listened  with  delight  to 
all.  Meanwhile  something  would  remind  him  of  home, 
of  fiord  or  of  ice-floe,  or  of  "  spring  beauties  "  there,  or 
of  scaling  the  mountains.  And  when  he  found  tongue, 
J:I:-|KT  would  let  him  run  on  to  his  heart's  content, 
either  in  the  Norwegian,  which  fell  so  pleasantl}r  from 
his  lips  when  he  was  reall}-  at  ease,  or  in  his  English, 
which  was  always  racy,  and  with  every  month  grew 
more  and  more  pure. 

Sometimes  these  walks  gave  place  either  to  rides  or 
long  trials  of  new  wagons,  when  there  was  something 


HE  AND  SHE.  139 

new  to  be  tested.  But,  after  all,  they  liked  their  walks 
the  most.  For  thc}T  were  both  }'oung,  near  the  age  of 
omnipotence,  and  in  walking  the}r  had  least  care. 

Swimming  was,  for  two  months  of  the  year,  better 
even  than  walking,  perhaps.  Swimming  was  a  mania 
with  Jasper ;  and  it  proved  that  it  was  a  habit  with 
Oscar  from  a  period  so  early  that  he  could  not  remem 
ber  when  he  could  not  swim.  So  soon  as  Mr.  Dundas 
found  out,  as  he  said,  how  craz}T  the}7  both  were  about 
it,  he  admitted  them  to  the  secret,  that,  a  little  way  up 
the  river,  he  had  certain  well-defined  and  undivided 
rights  of  suzeraint}",  which  entitled  him  to  permit  them 
to  cany  up  to  an  old  barn  near  the  shore  an  old  sea- 
chest,  of  which  Oscar  had  renewed  hinges  and  lock,  and 
which  Jasper  then  stored  with  Bent's  crackers,  and  a 
Dutch  cheese,  while  in  the  off-cut,  of  Oscar's  cabinet- 
making,  he  laid  in  a  dozen  crash  towels.  Dear  Li!}',  I 
am  sorry  to  confess  that  they  were  not  hemmed ;  but 
of  some  sexes  one  weakness  is  an  inability  to  hem  rap 
idly.  The  rights  of  suzeraint}^  extended  down  the 
beach  ;  so  that  when  Jasper  chose,  he  and  Oscar  could 
run  down  from  the  shop  to  the  river,  take  a  boat  and 
row  up  to  Flinders's,  as  this  place  was  called,  strip  in 
the  shade  of  the  barn,  and,  to  take  the  delicious  vernac 
ular  of  New  England  in  its  sweet  simplicity,  could  "  go 
into  water." 

Ah  !  those  were  the  really  glorious  days  for  Oscar ! 
They  undressed  slowly  ;  they  swam  forever,  —  if  it  had 
been  heaven  they  would  not  have  enjoyed  it  more  ;  unwil 
lingly  they  came  back  to  shore  when  Jasper  gave  the 
word.  They  ran.  races  in  the  costume  of  the  Olym 
pian  games  upon  the  beach.  They  lay  in  the  sun,  and 
let  the  life  from  the  light  soak  into  their  skin  and  flesh 
and  bones.  They  slowly  resumed  the  baser  disguises 
of  fallen  man  ;  and  then  they  took  the  skiff,  and  let 
her,  if  she  would,  drift  down  to  the  scenes  of  dirt  and 
work  and  barter.  But  there  was  no  other  time  when 
they  so  discussed  all  realities  in  heaven  above  or  earth 
beneath,  or  in  the  waters  under  the  earth  ;  nor  ever,  as 
Oscar  thought,  did  life  seem  so  free  as  when  they  thus 


140  CTPS  AND  DOWNS. 

got  away  from  their  harness,  away  from  houses,  away 
from  roads,  even  away  from  work,  and  awa}T  from  men. 

These  young  men  had  less  than  most  young  men 
have  to  do  with  other  people  in  the  world ;  but  they 
were  all  in  all  to  each  other. 

Meanwhile  Jasper's  relations  with  the  little  college 
circle,  where  we  first  met  him,  fell  off,  he  scarcely  knew 
how.  He  was  annoj^ed  that  it  was  so.  But  there  was 
no  reason  why  he  should  be  annoyed.  Letters  were 
fewer  and  fewer  on  both  sides  ;  and,  when  the}'  wrote, 
they  found  out,  to  their  sorrow,  that  they  had  nothing 
to  say.  For  Jasper  himself,  his  life  did  not  satisfy 
him,  but  it  did  not  dissatisfy  him.  He  certainly  had 
not  3'et  persuaded  himself  that  he  had  been  sent  into 
the  world  only  to  make  better  carriages  in  Detroit  than 
had  been  made  there  before.  But,  on  the  other  hand, 
it  was  clear  that  making  carriages  then  and  there  was 
the  dut}r  next  his  hand  just  then,  and  that  it  wras  the 
only  place  which  he  had  just  then  to  stand  in,  in  the 
subduing  of  the  world.  And  Jasper  had  sense  enough 
to  make  out  that  he  had  not  been  put  into  the  world  for 
any  mere  personal  purpose,  but  as  a  child  of  God,  to 
whom  God  had  intrusted  a  part  of  this  business  of 
world-subduing.  Jasper  knew,  in  his  heart,  that  he 
should  have  liked  the  world  much  better  if  it  had 
needed  him  as  chairman  of  a  leading  committee  in 
Congress.  But  there,  unfortunately,  the  Constitution 
of  the  country  said  that  no  man  should  enter,  even  the 
House  of  Representatives,  till  he  was  twenty-five  years 
old  ;  and,  if  it  had  not  said  so,  no  constituency  had 
shown  any  desire  to  return  him.  lie  knew  in  his  heart 
that  he  should  have  liked  the  world  much  better,  if  it 
had  needed  him  where  it  needed  the  3'oung  Napoleon, 
encouraging  a  faltering  column  at  the  Bridge  of  Lodi, 
or  carrying  an  army  over  an  impossible  route  to  pounce 
on  a  half-defended  valley.  But  nobody  had  summoned 
him  to  any  such  dut}'.  lie  had,  on  the  other  hand, 
shaken  his  head  at  the  Mexican  war,  when  he  refused 
the  proposals  of  the  wagon-cunt raetor.  He  could  un 
derstand  very  well  that  it  would  be  pleasanter  to  work 


UE  AND  SHE.  141 

as  Charles  Dickens  was  working  at  that  moment,  every 
one  of  whose  monthly  parts  Jasper  and  Oscar  were 
bivying  at  the  moment  when  they  appeared,  and  de 
vouring  eagerty.  But  just  here  Jasper  was  aware  that  he 
could  not  write  the  "  Curiosity  Shop  "  if  he  tried  ;•  and 
he  even  doubted  whether,  if  he  could,  there  were  any 
publisher  who  would  take  the  risk  of  sending  out  his 
chapters  to  the  world.  Even  at  four  and  twenty  he  had 
thus  found  that  he  had  his  limitations.  And,  so  as  the 
business  of  carriage-building  was  open,  he  stuck  to  that 
with  all  his  zeal.  lie  saw  that  it  was  training  Oscar 
admirably.  He  saw  that  it  "was  raising  the  standard 
of  honor,  and  indeed  of  life,  of  every  man  engaged  in 
the  factory.  He  looked  forward  to  larger  relations 
into  which  it  might  bring  them  all  with  the  business  of 
the  North-west.  And  it  made  of  him  an  efficient  and 
vital  part  of  the  God-made  order  of  the  civilization  of 
his  time.  So  far  so  good.  And  so  Jasper  solaced 
himself,  when  he  , reflected,  that,  though  he  had  lived 
long  enough  to  be  a  Master  of  Arts,  he  was  not  yet  a 
Henry  Clay,  a  Napoleon,  or  a  Dickens.  Yet,  for  all 
this,  he  did  not  mean  to  be  a  carriage-builder  all  his 
life. 

Now,  my  dear  Lily,  if  you  are  quite  outraged  be 
cause  all  this  "  excursion,"  as  the  Germans  call  it,  does 
not  seem  to  you  to  help  the  story  on  at  all,  I  am  very 
sorry.  For  really,  it  does  help  it  a  great  deal.  I  know 
w^hat  you  wanted.  You  wanted,  that,  just  as  soon  as 
Jasper  had  had  that  nice  talk  with  Bertha,  he  should 
go  home  to  his  hotel,  and  write  her  just  the  most  beau 
tiful  note  that  ever  was  written,  and  send  it  round  to 
her  ;  and  walk  anxiously  on  the  lake-side  for  an  hour, 
and  then  receive  from  her,  at  the  hands  of  a  lovely 
child,  a  moss  rose-bud.  Then  you  wanted  him  to  fly 
to  Bertha,  and  fold  her  in  his  arms,  and  press  one  kiss 
on  her  lips,  and  then  to  have  them  married,  and  have 
this  story  done,  and  another  story  begun. 

Dear  Lily,  I  am  truly  sorry  for  you  ;  but,  if  this  did 
not  happen,  how  can  you  and  I  make  it  happen  ?  Jas- 


H2  UPS  AND  DOWNS 

per  did  not  see  Bertha  for  a  year  after  the  party,  and 
more,  nor  hear  one  word  from  her.  And  a  sad  enough 
business  it  was  when  he  did  hear.  I  do  not  sa}T  but  he 
thought  of  her  ver}'  often  during  those  fifteen  months. 
Yes,  Lily,  he  did  think  of  her ;  and  I  believe  even 
Bertha  thought  of  him,  if  }'ou  will  let  me  say  so. 
Sometimes  when  he  was  taking  a  long  walk  alone, 
building  some  of  his  air-castles,  he  found  that  Bertha 
was  with  him,  and  that  he  was  very  eagerty  telling  her 
what  were  his  grandest  plans,  and  his  most  ambitious. 
Once  and  again,  when  he  was  going  through  tea-fights 
which  good  Mrs.  Buffum  got  up,  for  the  pure  and  sim 
ple  purpose  of  making  him  better  acquainted  with  some 
very  poky  nieces  she  had  sta}Ting  with  her,  as  Jasper 
talked  his  hardest  with  Miss  Melinda  and  Miss  Frances 
Maria,  dragging  up  subjects  which  they  had  slain,  and 
galvanizing  them,  and  making  them  skip  and  dance 
again,  only  to  see  these  horrid  girls  slaughter  them  once 
*  tnore  ;  once  and  again,  I  say,  did  he  remember  Bertha's 
pleasant  sympathetic  listening,  her  unaffected  reply, 
her  confession  of  ignorance  if  she  were  ignorant,  or 
her  flash  of  intelligence  the  instant  she  comprehended. 
When,  to  make  himself  understood  at  all,  he  had  to 
toil  painfull}'  through  a  sentence  even  to  the  hard  knock 
at  the  end  of  the  last  word,  and  Miss  Melinda  sim 
pered,  and  said  sentimentally  :  "  I  always  thought  so  "  ; 
and  then  when  she  showed  a  moment  after  that  she 
had  not  the  slightest  idea  of  what  he  had  been  saying 
or  explaining,  he  would  recall  Bertha's  quick  intelli 
gence,  cutting  him  short  when  he  had  but  just  begun, 
so  that  thejr  seemed  to  crowd  half  the  best  thought 
and  memory  of  their  life  into  that  golden  hour  of  Mrs. 
Rosenstein's  supper-room  and  parlor.  But  through 
that  summer,  and  until  the  next  was  nearly  ended, 
they  did  not  meet  face  to  face  again. 

"  Did  not  meet  face  to  face  !  "  says  Miss  Melinda,  — 
who  at  this  moment  is  reading  this  chapter,  without 
recognizing  herself,  and  as  for  Jasper,  she  long  since 
forgot  him,  —  "  Why  it  is  only  on  this  very  page  that 


HE  AND  SITE.  143 

it  says   'Bertha  was  with  him*   as  he  walked.     How 
careless  these  Deople  that  write  the  stories  are  ! " 


And  Bertha? 

Bertha  had  what  the  vernacular  of  our  country  calls 
"  a  horrid  time  !  " 

Once  and  again  it  seemed  impossible  for  her  to  bear 
the  petty  t}Tannies  and  the  great  tyrannies  of  Mrs. 
Rosenstein.  Sometimes  it  seemed  as  if  Mrs.  Rosen- 
stein  were  fairly  crazy :  indeed,  on  a  generous  inter 
pretation  of  that  word,  she  was  "  beside  herself." 
With  the  children  Bertha  could  cope  ;  although,  as  has 
been  said,  she  lacked  so  often  the  help  she  had  a  right 
to  look  for.  Mr.  Rosenstein  would  be  away,  and  his 
wife  would  interfere  just  where  she  ought  not.  But 
the  children  were  very  fond  of  Bertha,  and  she  was 
very  fond  of  them.  And,  as  month  passed  after  month, 
it  was  clear  enough,  even  to  her  self-condemning  dis 
position,  that  they  were  improving.  The  school-room, 
so  called,  was,  no  longer  a  chaos,  and  they  were  not 
seeking  for  any  excuse  to  shirk  their  lessons.  All  of 
them  were  bright ;  and,  to  Bertha's  great  pleasure,  each 
one  developed  a  special  taste,  which  she  could  encour 
age  and  direct,  and  by  which  she  could  quicken  a  reas 
onable  self-respect  and  pride. 

It  was,  indeed,,  in  the  line  of  the  very  accomplish 
ments  which  Bertha  had  used  as  her  best  allies,  that 
she  and  Mrs.  Rosenstein  came  to  their  worst  battle- 
royal.  Charlotte  had,  one  morning,  taken  great  pains 
with  her  French  and  arithmetic  lessons,  thai-  she  might 
be  entitled  to  u paint"  for  an  hour.  The  girl  had  really 
an  eye  for  color ;  and  Bertha,  who  knew  a  little  of  the 
rudimentary  work  of  water-color  drawing,  had  inter 
ested  her  intensely  in  its  pretty  processes.  Charlotte 
had  cleared  away  the  school-books,  brought  out  the 
drawing-table,  set  up  the  little  table  easel  which  Mr. 
Carl  Rounds  had  given  to  her,  and  was  just  mixing  the 
grays  for  her  clouds,  when  a  servant  came  in  to  say 


144  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

that  Mrs.  Rosenstein  wanted  her  to  go  to  ride  with 
her  ;  Mrs.  Rosenstein  was  going  to  make  calls. 

Poor  Charlotte !  She  was  not  under  an}T  such  re 
straint,  but  that  she  burst  out  into  a  fit  of  rage  not  un 
like  one  of  her  mother's.  "It  is  too  bad !  It  is  too 
bad  !  That's  just  what  always  happens.  It's  a  shame  !  " 
and  so  on. 

Bertha  soothed  her,  so  far  as  there  was  any  soothing, 
talked  to  her  as  to  a  reasonable  being  sometimes,  and 
sometimes  as  to  a  petted  child,  and  at  last  brought  her 
to  considerations,  partly  of  duty,  partly  of  that  miser 
able  policy  by  which  these  four  children  were  ruined, 
to  go  down  to  her  mother,  and  to  ask  her  leave  to  stay 
at  home  and  draw.  Poor  Bertha  gave  this  advice,  as 
the  very  best  which  she  could  give,  in  the  temper  the 
child  was  then  in  ;  and  she  knew  as  well  as  she  could 
know  anything,  that  the  presence  of  Charlotte  in  the 
carriage  was  onl}*  a  whim  of  the  last  moment. 

Nor  did  Charlotte  fail  in  tact  or  in  duty,  in  present 
ing  her  request.  She  did  not  show  any  temper  ;  that 
had  blown  over  in  the  first  gale.  She  ran  up  to  her 
mother  pleasantly,  caught  both  her  hands  and  kissed 
her,  and  then  said  eagerly  and  confident!}',  "  Oh,  pray, 
mamma,  let  me  stay  at  home  now  !  I  am  in  the  midst 
of  a  nice  surprise  for  you,  and  I  do  want  to  get  it  done 
before  Saturday." 

But  Mrs.  Kosenstein  had  been  thoroughly  crossed. 
"  Surprise  !  surprise  !  I  hate  surprises.  What  is  JOUT 
surprise  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  you  must  not  know,  mamma.  Saturday,  you 
shall  know.  No  :  to-morrow  you  shall  know,  if  I  may 
only  stay  at  home  all  this  morning.  Ma}Tn't  I  stay  at 
home,  mamma  ?  " 

"  Tell  me  what  you  are  doing,  you  disobedient 
child  !  "  This  was  poor  Lotty's  only  answer. 

"  Why,  mamma,"  said  the  poor  thing,  ciying,  "of 
course  I  will  tell,  if  you  want  me  to.  It  is  only  the 
picture  I  was  painting,  —  I  was  copying  it  from  a  pic 
ture  Miss  Bertha  has.  And  I  was  painting  it  for  a 
surprise  for  you." 


HE  AXD  SHE.  145 


... 


And  so  it  is  Miss  Schwarz  wtih  steps  in  between 
me   and  my  children,  and   decides  NWte  N  shall  stay  s 
home,  and  who  shall  not  stay.    I  will  tefe^Xfes 
what  I  think  of  that."     This  was  the  answ< 
lotte's  confession.    And  Mrs.  Rosenstein  sent  Christina 
up  stairs  to  bid  Miss  Schwarz  come  down.     The  mo 
ment  Bertha  entered  she  was  assailed  with,  — 

"  So,  Miss  Schwarz,  there  is  a  new  mistress  in  this 
house,  I  understand.  It  seems  there  is  some  one  here 
who  wants  to  come  between  me  and  my  children.  I 
suppose  I  am  to  thank  you  that  I  may  have  the  car 
riage  to  go  and  ride  myself.  Would  you  not  prefer,  Miss 
Schwarz,  to  take  it  this  morning,  and  have  me  stay  at 
home  ?  As  for  this  disobedient  girl,  I  will  see  what 
shall  be  done  to  her.  I  will  thank  you,  Miss  Schwarz, 
to  interfere  no  longer  with  her,  or  with  any  of  the  chil 
dren.  I  have  had  quite  enough  of  this  impudence.  I 
will  not  bear  it." 

By  this  time  Charlotte  was  sobbing  on  the  sofa. 
Bertha,  utterly  astonished,  was  not  so  much  upset,  but, 
at  the  first,  the  absurdity  of  the  whole  impressed  her  as 
much  as  the  rudeness  and  injustice.  But  of  this  tran 
sient  amusement  she  showed  no  sign  ;  she' even  screwed 
herself  up  to  sa}*ing  cheerfully : 

"  Dear  Mrs.  Rosenstein,  there  is  some  mistake.  No 
body  wants  to  interfere.  Prajr,  what  do  you  mean?  " 

"  No  !  nobody  wants  to  interfere.  Oh,  no  !  nobody  ! 
Yet  poor  me  is  the  only  person  in  the  house  who  is  a 
slave  to  every  one  ;  and  my  poor  children,  one  by  one, 
are  stolen  from  me.  Julia  was  the  first,  then  I  lost  the 
bo}Ts,  and  now  my  own  Charlotte  turns  on  her  mother. 
And  it  is  for  Miss  Schwarz  to  sa}r  whether  she  shall  go 
out  with  her  own  mother,  or  stay  at  home,  —  Miss 
Schwarz,  whom  I  picked  out  of  the  gutter.  And  if 
you  please,  Miss  Schwarz,  may  I  dine  at  home  to 
day?" 

"  Mamma  !  Mamma  !  "  shrieked  Charlotte  ;  and 
Bertha  turned  to  leave  the  room. 

u  Xo,  Miss  Schwarz,  you  shall  not  run  away  from 
me,"  said  the  wild  creature.     "You  shall  hear  me  out 
10 


146  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

this  time.  I'll  give  you  a  bit  of  my  mind,  if  I  never 
speak  again.  I  will  not  have  this  interference  and  im 
pudence.  I  will  not  have  such  goings  on,  under  my 
own  eyes,  with  my  own  children.  I  will  be  the  mis 
tress  of  my  own  family."  And  so,  —  as  is  the  law  of 
passion,  which  has  its  laws  as  entirely  as  gravitation 
has,  —  she  wrought  herself  up,  from  point  to  point,  till 
she  said  what  she  had  not  the  least  idea  of  saying  when 
she  began,  and,  indeed,  had  never  seriously  thought  of 
saying.  u  I  thought  I  had  hired  a  servant :  it  seems, 
I  did  hire  a  mistress.  I  was  tired  of  her  long  ago ; 
and,  if  she  is  as  tired  of  her  place  as  I  am  of  seeing 
her  in  it,  she  will  not  stay  long.  The  sooner  she  goes 
the  better." 

"  Mamma !  Mamma ! "  shrieked  poor  Charlotte 
again,  dismayed  at  seeing  the  storm  she  had  brought 
on. 

"  I  agree  with  }'ou  wholly,"  said  Bertha  ;  "  the  sooner 
the  better.  Now,  I  am  sure,  there  is  no  reason  why  I 
should  stay  longer." 

So  Bertha  went  up  stairs  ;  and,  though  she  had  often 
been  terribly  angry  with  Mrs.  Rosenstein,  this  time  she 
was  not  angiy ;  nay,  she  was  even  glad  that  the  end 
had  come,  almost  without  a  word,  indeed  without  an}T 
premeditation,  of  hers.  She  was  sorry  to  go  without 
saying  good-by  to  Mr.  Rosenstein  ;  but  for  the  rest, 
she  could  bury  all  thought  of  the  insult  in  the  joy  of 
going  home,  and  that  she  was  going  home  without  hav 
ing  given  up  herself,  that  it  was  no  thought  or  plan  of 
hers. 

So  she  packed  her  possessions,  leaving  in  the  bureau 
drawers  the  several  gifts,  costly  and  mean,  with  which 
in  sunn}'  days  Mrs.  Rosenstein  had  oppressed  her.  She 
did  not  go  down  to  dinner,  but  Christina  saw  that  she 
did  not  suffer.  Bertha  was  a  prime  favorite  witli 
Christina,  as  with  eveiybody  else  in  the  household,  ex 
cept  its  mistress. 

The  packing  was  interrupted,  once  and  again,  by 
visits  from  the  girls  and  the  boys,  now  together,  now 
alone,  :uid  always  in  tears  before  the  visits  were  well 


HE  AND  SHE.  147 

finished,  even  if  the  jxnmg  folks  came  in  with  some 
pretence  of  firmness.  Sometimes  Bertha  sent  them 
awa3*,  sometimes  the}'  went  away,  because  they  were 
ashamed  to  cry  in  her  room.  She  knew  that  a  boat 
would  touch  at  the  pier  on  its  wa}T  northward  early  the 
next  morning;  and  she  had  bidden  Christina  make 
sure  of  a  wagoner  and  a  carriage  to  take  her  trunks  and 
herself  to  meet  it.  A  sad  afternoon  for  her,  for  the 
children  were  indeed  in  earnest,  and  she  found  it  hard 
to  comfort  them,  when  she  needed  comfort  herself  all 
the  time. 

But  just  as  she  had  squeezed  into  the  top  of  the  trunk 
the  last  obdurate  parcel  of  shoes,  and  felt  she  had  so 
earned  her  right  to  undress,  even  if  there  were  little 
chance  of  sleeping,  there  came  an  unexpected  tap  at 
her  door.  She  threw  it  open  herself ;  and  Mr.  Rosen- 
stein  came  in,  whom  she  had  supposed  a  thousand  miles 
away.  He  looked  worried,  and,  after  he  had  given  her 
his  hand,  sat  down  on  the  trunk  she  had  just  closed,  as 
if  he  did  not  know  how  to  begin. 

"I  hope  I  am  in  time.  I  cannot  tell  }*ou  how  an- 
no3*ed  I  am,  how  provoked  I  am.  Of  course,  if  I  had 
been  here,  this  would  never  have  been.  Of  course  — 
you  see — well,  Miss  Schwarz,  I  know  there  is  no  apol- 
og3*.  I  know  Mrs.  Rosenstein  must  have  talked, — 
well,  like  a  fool,  I  suppose.  But  she  can  make,  and 
shall  make,  any  apology  3*011  require.  No !  please  do 
not  speak  —  let  me  speak.  If  you  please,  3*011  must  see 
that  the  one  chance  these  children  have  for  this  world, 
or  for  any  world,  is  with  3*ou.  You  must  see,  that,  if 
3*011  leave  them,  the3'  can  never  have  such  a  chance 
again.  Charlotte  says  you  have  been  crying.  Their 
mother  has  been  crying  all  day  long,  the3*  tell  me,  ever 
since  this  cursed  outbreak.  No  !  please  let  me  speak. 
I  do  not  want  to  persuade  ;  but,  if  3*011  could  see  that 
there  was  an3*  duty  in  the  case,  I  know  3*011  would  sta3r 
here.  Is  it  possible  for  me  to  show  you  that  3*011  have 
a  duty  to  these  children  ?  At  least,  I  can  show  3*011 
that  3*ou  will  render  an  inestimable  service  to  me." 

Bertha  looked  up  this  time ;  and,  when  she  looked 


148  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

up,  she  saw  that  Julia  was  in  the  room  also,  her  eyes 
red  with  tears,  resting  on  her  father's  shoulder  as  he 
spoke.  As  Bertha  looked  up,  this  poor  child,  who  was 
to  be  left  to  the  whims  of  such  a  wild-cat  as  Bertha  was 
leaving,  looked  on  her,  to  implore  her.  And  she,  too, 
found  words  to  say,  "Pray  stay  !  " 
And  Bertha  staid. 


BERTHA  STAID.  149 


CHAPTER    XV. 

BERTHA   STAID. 

"OEBTHA  staid. 

And  from  this  time  her  life  with  these  wild  chil 
dren,  and  their  half-crazy  mother,  with  its  occasional 
glimpses  of  poor,  worn,  sad-looking  Mr.  Rosenstein, 
had  new  elements,  and  began  to  partake  of  ups  and 
downs  quite  as  wayward  as  those  of  anybody  else  in 
this  story. 

When  she  first  went  to  Milwaukie,  whatever  the 
roughness  of  the  machinery  of  Mr.  Rosenstein's  house 
hold,  there  was  no  lack  of  that  useful  oil  on  which 
social  machinery  runs  most  easily,  known  as  money 
when  it  is  spoken  of  without  a  metaphor.  The  children 
asked  for  money,  and  got  more  than  they  asked.  Mr. 
Rosenstein  gave  money  open-handed,  for  house-keep 
ing  and  for  the  expenses  of  dress,  without  being  asked  ; 
and  had  only  to  be  approached  with  any  demand,  how 
ever  outrageous  or  absurd,  by  his  wife  or  any  other 
member  of  the  family,  to  answer  it  lavishly  and  immc- 
diatety.  It  used  to  be  said  of  Deacon  Miles,  that  his 
only  fault  was  that  he  never  could  tell  what  a  woman 
should  have  to  do  with  a  five-dollar  bill.  Mr.  Rosen 
stein  had  many  faults,  but  this  was  not  hidden  among 
them.  People  of  Mrs.  Rosenstein's  type  are  apt  to 
think  that  anj'thing  conceivable  is  gained  if  they  only 
have  plenty  of  money.  Alack  and  alas  !  I  remember 
poor  Mary,  who  married  on  that  supposition,  and  found 
in  three  days  that  she  had  a  sulky,  selfish,  silent  brute 
in  her  house,  who  had  only  wanted  to  marry  her  be 
cause  he  could  thus  spite  the  dozen  adorers  who  were 
dying  to  marry  her,  whom  she  had  placed  there  by  her 


150  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

own  consent,  and  kept  there  b}r  her  own  solemn  vow 
and  promise,  and  that  from  year's  end  to  year's  end, 
and  from  life's  end  to  life's  end.  Ever}'  cup  was  to  be 
soured  by  what  he  chose  to  put  into  it,  and  every 
breath  she  drew  to  have  a  choking  twitch,  because  this 
creature  was  there  !  Poor  Mary  !  There  was  plenty 
of  money !  But,  if  she  ever  smiled  again,  I  never 
saw  it. 

Bertha  had  found  out,  if  she  needed  to  learn  it,  that 
many  things  besides  oil  were  needed  to  make  the  Ros- 
enstein  machinery  run  easily ;  and  this  we  have  suffi 
ciently  explained  to  the  reader.  But  now  even  the 
supply  of  oil  became  unsteady.  Sometimes  there 
would  be  a  great  rush  of  oil,  pouring  itself  all  over  the 
machineiy.  But  sometimes  the  wheels  would  creak  and 
groan,  and  get  very  hot  on  the  bearings,  because  no  oil 
was  to  be  had.  '  Or,  speaking  in  the  fashion  of  the 
street,  sometimes  Mr.  Rosenstein  was  flush,  and  some 
times  he  was  veiy,  very  dry.  There  would  be  dreadful 
borrowings  from  child  to  child,  from  child  to  mother ; 
borrowings  even  from  Bertha  to  pay  such  trifles  as  an 
express  fee,  all  so  man}'  evidences  that  the  supplies 
had  been  stopped.  And  from  these,  and  many  other 
tokens,  Bertha  knew  that  Mr.  Rosenstein's  business 
must  be  sadly  disarranged. 

She  knew  too  little  of  business  herself  to  make  any 
guess  which  she  could  hold  to  for  a  wreek  at  a  time,  as 
to  what  his  occupation  was.  Such  sccrec}r  she  had 
never  dreamed  of,  as  was  observed  by  common  consent 
about  it.  •  She  wondered  sometimes  that  she  could  go 
on  as  she  did,  with  French  verbs,  and  German  exer 
cises,  and  the  latitude  of  Cape  Walsingham,  and  the 
population  of  Pekin,  just  as  if  she  were  the  most  com 
monplace  governess  in  the  world  ;  when,  in  fact,  she 
was  living  in  an  atmosphere  of  sot-rets  which  was  wor 
thy  of  tht!  Inquisition  itself.  One  day  her  indignation 
passed  all  bounds.  She  had  heard  great  altercation 
down  stairs,  which  was  then  hushed,  so  that  Bertha 
went  on  with  her  writing.  In  a  few  minutes  more  there 
was  a  knock  at  her  own  door.  It  was  Mr.  Rosenstein 


BEETHA  STAID.  151 

who  knocked,  pale  with  rage.  "  Miss  Schwarz,  the 
person  with  me  is  a  United  States  officer,  who  holds 
what  is  called  a  search-warrant,  and  affects  that  he  has 
the  right  to  go  into  ever}r  room  in  this  house  with  it. 
I  have  permitted  him  to  go  into  my  wife's  and  mine, 
rather  than  make  a  row.  Would  you  be  kind  enough 
to  let  him  see  how  much  tobacco  you  have  in  your 
bureau  drawers  ? "  This  was  said  with  a  profound 
sneer.  It  did  not,  however,  annihilate  the  officer,  who 
stepped  forward  and  opened  the  drawers,  ransacked 
them  pretty  thoroughly  indeed,  and  then,  with  a  rather 
clumsy  apolog}',  said  to  Bertha  that  he  was  sorry  to  have 
annoyed  her,  —  he  was  only  doing  his  duty.  His  e}'e 
fell  on  Bertha's  travelling  trunk  which  stood  in  her 
closet,  of  which  the  door  was  open. 

"  Please,  Miss  Bertha,  give  him  the  kej^s  of  }Tour 
trunk,"  said  Mr.  Rosenstein.  "  You  see  he  is  not  sat 
isfied." 

"  He  can  examine*  the  trunk,"  said  Bertha,  proud  as 
a  queen  and  savage  as  a  lioness  ;  "  but  there  is  nothing 
in  it,  nor  has  been,  these  six  months.  It  is  not  locked, 
sir.  Do  your  duty."  This  with  a  sublime  sneer. 

The  officer  was  no  fool.  He  knew  innocence  when 
he  saw  it,  apologized  in  his  fashion  again,  and  went  his 
way. 

As  Bertha  was  going  to  bed  that  evening,  one  of 
those  whims  crossed  her,  in  which  women  take  pleasure, 
of  altering  the  arrangements  of  their  sleeping-rooms. 
Perhaps  the  incident  of  the  officer  had  made  her  think 
that  the  trunk  should  not  have  been  in  sight.  She 
would  ask  Christina  to  take^it  up  stairs,  and  she  should 
have  more  room  in  her  closet.  She  tried  to  draw  it 
out  into  the  room,  but  did  so  only  with  great  difficulty. 
The  trunk  was  so  heavy  the  weight  surprised  her  ;  she 
loosened  the  straps,  and  found,  to  her  new  amazement, 
that  the  trunk  was  locked.  Had  she  locked  it  herself? 
She  never  locked  it ;  she  would  have  sworn  it  was  not 
locked :  she  remembered  how  fiercely  she  had  told  the 
officer  it  was  not  locked.  She  found  the  key  in  a  mo 
ment,  unlocked  the  trunk,  opened  it  with  difficulty,  so 


152  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

heavy  was  the  upper  half  of  it,  and  then  found  that  both 
top  and  bottom  were  fully  crowded  home  with  specimen 
cards  of  English  cutlery  of  every  variety.  Knives, 
scissors,  surgical  implements,  table  furniture,  —  things 
that  Bertha  had  never  heard  of  nor  dreamed  of  were 
there.  But  only  one  of  each  kind  ! 

Poor  Bertha  !  this  was  the  trunk  she  had  so  bravely 
defied  the  officer  to  examine. 

What  did  it  all  mean  ?  How  could  it  be  that  Mr. 
Rosenstein  was  a  receiver  of  stolen  goods  ?  and  what 
ought  she  do  ?  Should  she  go  and  find  the  officer,  and 
tell  what  she  had  found  ?  It  seemed  cruel  that  she. 
should  have  to  denounce  any  one  in  whose  house  she 
was  living.  Should  she  demand  an  explanation  from 
Mr.  Rosenstein  ?  should  she  insist  on  leaving  a  house 
where  there  could  be  such  mysteries  ?  Poor  Bertha ! 
She  got  into  bed  feeling  that  she  should  never  sleep 
again. 

In  fact,  she  was  asleep  in  fifteen  minutes.  But  the 
next  morning,  of  course,  all  her  cares  returned.  She 
determined  to  take  one  card  of  the  knives  from  the 
trunk,  and  carry  them  down  to  Mr.  Rosenstein,  and  de 
mand  an  explanation. 

She  opened  the  trunk,  and  there  was  nothing  there ! 

Bertha  went  down  stairs,  puzzled  and  provoked.  Of 
one  thing  she  was  sure,  she  would  have  an  immediate 
explanation.  But,  of  course,  when  she  found  them  all 
at  the  breakfast-table,  as,  to  her  surprise,  she  did,  she 
did  not  rush  in  with  a  carving-knife,  and  cry,  u  Ex 
plain  !  explain  !  "  She  sat  down  and  let  Mr.  Rosenstein 
offer  her  everything,  and  give  her  a  spoonful  of  ome 
lette.  Of  course  she  could  not  have  an  explanation 
then.  As  it  happened,  she  had  not  eaten  her  breakfast 
before  he  was  called  to  the  door  on  business.  No  sort 
of  allusion  was  made  by  anybody  to  the  officer  or 
the  search^  arrant.  Bertha  loitered  down  stairs,  be 
fore  she  joined  the  children  in  the  school-room.  But  on 
inquiry,  it  proved  Mr.  Rosenstein  had  gone  out.  And 
he  did  not  return  for  more  than  a  week.  So  for  that 
week  Bertha  had  to  live  without  an  explanation. 


BEETHA  STAID.  153 

When  Mr.  Rosenstein  did  come  home,  it  was  not 
Bertha  who  sought  an  explanation  frpm  him ;  it  was  he 
who  came  to  make  one  to  her. 

It  was,  however,  a  minimum  of  an  explanation. 
Simply  and  sadly,  —  with  sadness,  indeed,  which  com 
manded  all  Bertha's  s}'mpatlry,  —  he  told  her  tnat  he 
found  his  establishment  was  much  more  expensive  than 
he  could  maintain.  His  business  had  not  been  success 
ful  ;  he  had  determined  to  sell  his  house  and  furniture, 
and  remove  his  family  to  New  Orleans,  where  his  partner 
lived.  He  was  very  sorry,  after  Miss  Schwarz  had 
staid  purely  at  his  request,  to  break  his  engagement 
with  her.  But  he  must  do  so.  They  were  all  to  break 
up  so  suddenly,  that  he  must  notify  her  at  once  of  his 
new  plans.  He  supposed  she  would  like  to  go  to  her 
father's  at  once  ;  and,  if  she  wished,  he  would  take  her 
passage  in  the  boat  of  the  next  day  for  Detroit.  He 
would  make  up  her  salary  to  the  end  of  the  year.  And, 
fairly  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  this  incomprehensible  man 
thanked  her  again  and  again  for  her  kindness  to  the 
children,  and  said  she  had  given  them  the  only  chance 
in  life  the}T  had  had  since  they  were  born. 

Could  Bertha  possibly  ask  for  an  explanation  then  ? 

She  never  did  ask  for  one,  and  she  never  got  one. 
The  real  explanation  was,  that  Mr.  Rosenstein  was  a 
very  important  link  in  a  very  large  combination  of 
smugglers ;  who,  by  arrangements  which  need  not  be 
described  here,  were  systematically  defrauding  the  rev 
enue  on  an  enormous  scale. 


154  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

NUMBER   47. 

A  S  Jasper  came  down  to  the  shop  a  little  late  one 
-£^-  da}7,  Mr.  Buffum  met  him,  and  said,  with  an 
anxious  look,  "  I  am  very  glad  you  have  come  :  would 
you  as  lief  see  these  Peoria  people  ?  I  think  my  break 
fast  does  not  agree  with  me.  I  have  a  sort  of  faint 
feeling,  and  I  had  rather  keep  out  of  the  sun." 

Of  course  Jasper  went  over  the  dr}'ing-shop  with  the 
Peoria  people,  and  got  their  orders. 

When  he  came  back  into  the  office,  he  found  Mr. 
Buffum,  to  his  amazement,  lying  at  full  length  upon  a 
wretched  apology  for  a  sofa  they  had  in  the  counting- 
room.  Such  a  thing  Jasper  had  never  seen  before.  He 
was  distressed,  of  course,  and  came  to  his  friend  eagerly 
to  serve  him.  He  was  more  distressed  as  poor  Buf 
fum  turned  languidly  round  to  look  at  him.  There  was 
the  same  anxious  look  that  he  had  half  an  hour  before, 
and  his  features  seemed  strangely  sunken.  "  Oh ! " 
said  he,  faintty,  to  Jasper,  "  I  am  glad  you  have  come 
back ;  I  lay  clown  here  for  a  minute,  because  I  am  in 
no  condition  to  do  anything.  I  have  a  strange  weight 
at  my  stomach."  Jasper  was  more  alarmed  by  the 
manifest  look  of  anxiety  on  his  face,  than  by  what  he 
said.  He  sent  Oscar  at  once  for  Mr.  Dundas,  who  was 
in  the  carpenter-shop  ;  bade  one  of  the  boys  put  a  horse 
into  an  easy  rockawa}',  which  stood  in  the  yard,  and 
then  he  and  Dundas  easily  prevailed  on  poor  Buffum  to 
go  home.  Dundas  slipped  on  his  coat,  and  drove  ;  and 
Oscar  sat  in  the  carriage,  that  Mr.  Buffnm  might  rest 
on  his  shoulder,  for  he  seemed  hardly  able  to  sit  upon 
the  seat. 


NUMBEE  47.  155 

Neither  of  them  returned  till  noon.  "  I  never  saw 
such  a  change  in  a  man  in  my  .life,"  said  Dundas. 
"We  could  hardty  get  him  to  bed,  —  his  poor  wife  and 
I.  And  now,  if  you  were  to  go  in  and  see  him,  Rising, 
you  would  not  know  who  it  was,  his  whole  face  has 
fallen  in  so,  and  his  expression  is  so  changed." 

"  Did  he  know  you  when  you  left  him?  " 

"  Oh,  yes !  he  is  wholly  conscious,  but  he  is  in  ter 
rible  pain."  And  as  Mr.  Dundas  said  this,  he  passed 
through  into  the  inner  office,  giving  Jasper  a  sign  with 
his  eyelids,  as  he  passed,  that  he  wished  him  to  do  the 
same. 

Jasper  followed  him,  and  closed  the  door,  that  Oscar 
and  the  other  workmen,  who  were  clustering  about  him, 
need  not  hear  what  he  said. 

"  Is  it  cholera?  "  said  he  to  Mr.  Dundas. 

"Not  a  doubt  of  it,"  was  the  sad  reply.  "He  has 
already  the  most  agonizing  cramps.  It  is  terrible  to 
see  any  one  in  such  pain ;  and  poor  Buffum  has  been 
so  tender  and  gentle  all  the  time.  Did  you  not  notice 
that  blue  margin  round  his  e}~es  ?  Well,  after  we  got 
him  to  bed,  his  eyes  flashed  with  a  brilliancy  I  never 
saw  before,  and  this  corpse-like  blue  was  horrible. 
The  doctor  is  there  now,  with  his  camphors  and  lauda 
nums  and  brandies,  but  I  could  not  see  that  they  made 
a  hair's-breadth  of  difference.  I  told  Oscar  to  bring 
me  back,  because  I  knew  you  would  be  anxious.  I 
will  send  him  now  with  a  message  to  my  wife,  and  then 
I  have  told  Mrs.  Buffum  that  I  will  spend  the  afternoon 
and  night  with  her."  Here  Dundas  dropped  his 
voice.  "  You  see,  if  he  gets  no  relief,  he  will  not  be 
alive  in  the  morning ;  and  people  are  so  frightened 
that  she  will  find  it  hard  to  get  any  one  to  stay  with 
her." 

The  truth  was,  that  the  Asiatic  cholera  had  been 
making  the  second  of  its  terrible  incursions  of  the 
present  centur}r.  Everybody  in  Detroit  had  been 
watching,  wondering,  and  expecting  it ;  but  there  had 
been  no  certain  case  till  this.  Dundas  had  not  wanted 


156  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

to  give  unnecessary  alarm,  and  so  had  made  his  story 
to  his  partner  private. 

But  little  use  was  there  in  secrecy,  or  hope  to  main 
tain  it.  His  prognostic  regarding  Mr.  Buimm  was  only 
too  true.  The  attack  was  tremendous  in  its  celerity. 
Jasper  stopped  at  the  house  as  he  went  home  at  night, 
to  offer  any  service,  and  went  up  into  the  poor  patient's 
room.  He  did  this,  not  only  to  be  of  any  relief  he 
might  to  him,  but  to  encourage  the  rest,  if  he  could,  by 
showing  that  he  had  no  fear  of  contagion.  Mr.  Butfum 
answered  him  when  he  was  spoken  to,  but  Dundas  had 
been  quite  right  in  sa}Ting  that  Jasper  would  not  have 
known  him.  Features,  color,  expression,  the  whole 
face  was  wholly  changed.  Even  his  voice  was  unnat 
ural,  so  that  there  was  nothing  left  to  be  recognized ; 
and  to  see  a  man  of  Buffum's  strength  so  utterly  pros 
trate,  utterly  without  muscular  power  of  any  sort,  in  so 
few  hours  since  they  had  seen  him  standing  and  mov 
ing,  was  the  greatest  mystery  of  all.  There  was 
nothing  Jasper  could  do,  but  to  try  to  say  something 
hopeful  to  the  poor  wife ;  and  then  he  bade  Oscar 
drive  him  home. 

At  the  shop,  the  next  day,  he  met  the  announcement 
that  it  was  all  over  with  his  poor  partner.  He  had  not 
lived  till  da3*break.  There  were  some  faint  turns, 
Dundas  said,  which  seemed  almost  a  relief  after  the 
suffering  they  had  seen  ;  and  for  himself,  he  confessed 
that  all  treatment  had  been  so  powerless,  that  he  had 
felt  a  strange  relief  when  he  saw  death  creeping  on, 
and  knew  that  his  poor  friend  had  some  relief  from  his 
agon}'.  He  only  came  round  to  give  Jasper  this  news, 
and  I  hen  went  home  to  undress  and  sleep,  if  he  might. 
Meanwhile,  Jasper  learned  that  two  of  the  men  were 
down,  either  from  the  disease  or  from  fear.  The  next 
day  two  or  three  more  were  absent ;  but  it  was  thought 
1>Y  the  one  or  two  who  remained  that  the}*  were  not 
sick,  but  had  fled  the  city.  Of  work,  indeed,  there 
was  little  enough  to  be  done  in  these  sultry  August 
days.  .Jasper  only  kept  up  the  forms  of  work,  that  the 
men's  minds  might  be  turned  on  something  beside 


NUMBER  47.  157 

"  premonitories,"  of  which  ever}'  one  was  talking.  He 
occupied  himself,  as  did  all  men  of  intelligence  -and 
public  spirit,  in  making  proper  arrangements  for  the 
poor  emigrants,  who  landed  from  every  steamer  bound 
up  the  lakes,  and  in  the  depressed  state  of  their  con 
stitutions  were  just  so  much  food  for  the  disease. 
Three  or  four  temporary  hospitals  were  opened  for 
their  treatment ;  and  bodies  of  volunteer  nurses,  of 
both  sexes,  came  to  the  relief  and  assistance  of  the 
physicians. 

The  next  Monday,  when  Jasper  and  Oscar  came  to 
the  shop,  after  a  Sunday  which  had  been  consecrated 
to  hospital  service,  he  was  distressed  to  find  a  note 
from  Mr.  Dundas,  sajdng  that  he  himself  was  not  well. 
It  was  nothing,  the  note  said ;  but  he  thought  it  best 
to  be  prudent.  Jasper  called  Oscar  in,  to  bid  him  put 
the  horse  to  a  wagon  ;  but  as  the  boy  entered,  he  per 
ceived  in  an  instant,  and  with  a  sinking  heart,  that  his 
step  dragged,  and  that  something  was  the  matter  with 
him.  Jasper  framed  a  longer  sentence  than  he  had 
meant,  that  he  might  get  a  full  look  at  Oscar's  eyes  ; 
and  there,  too  certainly,  were  the  blue  circles  around 
them,  which  he  had  learned  to  know  so  well. 

"Just  sit  here  for  a  minute,  Oscar,"  said  he,  without 
sa3'ing  a  word  more  to  alarm  the  boy.  "  I  will  be  back 
in  a  moment ;  lie  back  on  the  sofa ;  you  look  tired." 
And  Oscar  did  so,  amazed  at  himself,  first  that  he  was 
tired  ;  and  next  that  he  made  no  protest  against  his 
master's  order.  He  knew,  as  well  as  Jasper  knew, 
that  it  was  very  strange  that  he  should  consent  to  lie 
down  in  that  room. 

In  two  minutes  Jasper  had  two  horses  in  two  car 
riages.  Sadly  enough,  the  thought  flashed  across  his 
mind,  that  the  one  in  which  he  sat  was  one  of  those 
which  Oscar  had  saved  to  the  firm  while  he  was  in  Mil-' 
waukie.  He  lifted  Oscar  gently  into  the  same  rock- 
away  in  which  the}'  had  carried  Buffum  away  for  the 
last  time.  One  of  the  workmen  held  him.  and  another 
drove  the  horse,  as  they  went,  all  three,  to  the  hospital 
where  Oscar  and  Jasper  had  both  been  on  duty  all  the 


158  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

day  before.  Jasper  himself  then  swung  to  the  gates, 
and  bolted  them  within.  There  was  not  a  man  left  in 
the  shops  or  in  the  paint-rooms.  He  passed  through 
the  deserted  counting-house,  and  locked  the  door  ;  un 
fastened  his  horse,  mounted  the  wagon,  and  drove  as 
fast  as  he  could  to  his  surviving  partner's. 

The  old  story  again !  Dundas  was  in  bed  by  this 
time.  His  voice  was  changed,  though  he  did  not  know 
it ;  his  natural  color  gone,  and  his  eyes  sunken.  Still 
his  courage  held.  "  You  need  not  have  come  round  to 
see  me,  Rising,  though  it  is  very  kind  in  }Tou."  Then, 
after  a  pause,  of  which  he  was  hardly  conscious,  "  I 
shall  be  all  right  to-morrow."  Then  another  pause,  and 
one  effort  more:  "Anything  at  the  shop  you  want  to 
ask  about?"  But  Jasper  said  cheerfully  that  they 
should  do  very  wrell  at  the  shop  ;  that  he  must  not  con 
cern  himself,  drew  Mrs.  Dundas  aside,  to  say  that  he 
would  try  to  be  back  before  the  day  was  over ;  ami 
then,  as  soon  as  he  might,  followed  to  the  hospital,  to 
which  he  had  directed  the  men  to  take  poor  Oscar. 

An  old  warehouse  by  the  river-side,  which,  in  the 
earlier  days  of  Detroit,  had  been  some  sort  of  govern 
ment  storehouse,  Jasper  thought,  and  in  later  days 
seemed  to  have  been  put  to  any  or  no  use,  as  an}Tbody 
or  nobody  might  wish,  — r  this  was  the  temporary  hos 
pital.  They  might  not  have  done  better,  had  they 
built  one  on  purpose.  It  was  close  by  the  river,  so 
that  they  were  sure  of  as  good  air  as  could  be  had  any 
where.  It  had  no  windows  originally ;  and,  for  the 
present  purposes,  very  large  windows  had  been  cut,  — 
which  were,  in  fact,  so  many  barn-doors,  —  and  gave  to 
all  the  rooms  the  most  ample  ventilation.  A  loft,  some 
fifteen  feet  above  the  first  floor,  had  alwaj's  existed  over 
about  half  the  building.  No  effort  had  been  made  to 
enlarge  this  ;  but  a  convenient  stairway  had  been  built, 
by  which  there  was  easy  access  to  it.  There  were, 
therefore,  two  wards  to  the  improvised  hospital ;  one 
down  stairs,  occupying  the  whole  floor,  and  one  up 
stairs,  of  half  the  size.  When  the  authorities  took 
possession  of  this  building,  there  were  some  rotten 


NUMBER  47.  159 

sails  in  it,  which  had  been  carried  out  and  made  into 
tents  on  the  river-side.  All  its  other  contents  had  been 
carried  away,  and  the  whole  interior  doubly  white 
washed,  —  floors,  ceilings,  and  all,  under  an  impression 
which  widel}'  prevailed,  and  which  had,  probably,  some 
foundation  in  truth,  that  there  was  virtue  in  the  clean 
liness  of  new  lime  on  walls. 

In  four  regular  lines,  which  extended  the  whole 
length  of  the  building,  were  the  rows  of  neat  pine  bed 
steads,  which  had  been  put  together  on  a  simple  pat 
tern,  for  the  emergenc}^  and  were  also  neat  and  sweet. 
There  were,  as  one  would  guess  at  a  glance,  about 
twenty  beds  in  each  of  the  four  rows  ;  half  of  them  had 
never  been  occupied.  The  Marseilles  quilts,  which 
had  been  taken  from  the  supplies  of  some  steamer, 
covered  them  nicety,  and  gave  even  a  cheerful  aspect 
to  the  sad  place.  An  unpainted  chair  stood  at  the 
head  of  each  bed,  on  one  side,  and  a  little  unpainted 
table  of  white  pine  on  the  other. 

Jasper  arrived  at  the  hospital  within  an  hour  after 
Oscar  and  the  other  party  had  come  there.  Jasper 
stopped  a  moment  at  the  little  office,  which  was  a  sep 
arate,  ten-foot  building,  on  the  outside. 

"  What  do  3'ou  think  of  my  poor  boy,  doctor  ?  "  he 
said,  finding  that  one  of  the  gentlemen  on  duty  had 
returned  for  a  moment  to  the  office. 

UO  Rising!  is  it  3*011?"  said  Dr.  Wirt,  looking  up 
for  a  moment.  "  I  am  sorry  to  say,  there  is  no  doubt 
it  is  a  real  attack.  Indeed,  he  looked  badly  when  he 
stopped  here  this  morning  with  your  message,  and  I 
tried  to  persuade  him  then  not  to  go  any  farther.  But 
I  might  as  well  have  spoken  to  the  wind.  You  had 
told  him  to  meet  }*ou  at  your  shop,  he  said ;  and  it 
was  very  clear  that  he  would  have  gone  on  and  met 
you,  if  he  had  died.  WQ  have  got  him  to  bed.  I  have 
been  giving  him  hot  teas,  just  as  we  were  ordering  yes 
terday  ;  and  he  is  not,  as  j'et,  in  any  pain.  You  will 
be  of  more  use  to  him  than  we  shall  be." 

"  I  wish  I  thought  so,"  said  Jasper,  as  they  passed 


160  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

into  the  building  together.  "How  many  new  cases 
have  you  ?  " 

'•  Well,  I  believe  we  have  eight,  counting  Oscar, 
since  you  left  ^yesterday.  But,  per  contra,  we  have 
only  lost  two.  It  is  the  best  night  for  a  week.  I  do 
not  think  we  can  say  it  is  the  treatment.  But  it  does 
seem  as  if  the  violence  of  the  attacks  were  less  as  the 
number  increases.  Certainty,  our  proportion  here  is 
better.  Do  3^011  know  what  Sabine  says  ?  " 

No,  Jasper  did  not  know  ;  and,  as  he  said  this,  they 
came  to  No.  47.  Oscar  was  No.  47  from  this  time, 
and  by  No.  47  Jasper  took  his  seat.  He  acquainted 
himself  in  a  few  minutes  with  what  had  been  done,  by 
the  nurse  whom  he  found  on  duty ;  and  then  he  as 
sumed  his  charge  of  Nos.  46,  47  and  48.  This  was 
service  which  both  he  and  Oscar  had  been  rendering  at 
intervals  now  for  three  or  four  days. 

"It  is  that  my  head  aches,  dear  master,  as  I  did  not 
know  my  head  could  ache.  And  I  do  not  hear  very 
well  what  Dr.  Wirt  says  to  me,  and  what  this  nurse- 
man  —  man-nurse,  what  you  call  him  ?  —  wants  to  sa}r. 
But  now  you  have  come,  my  dear  master,  }~our  poor 
boy  will  be  well  soon  —  well  soon."  And  then  he  sunk 
into  the  silence  which  was  so  much  more  natural  than 
continued  speech,  in  this  terrible  prostration. 

As  Jasper  sat,  as  he  varied  the  treatment  according 
to  the  doctor's  direction  under  the  constant  change  of 
symptoms,  he  persuaded  himself,  once  or  twice,  that 
this  was  not  going  to  be  a  severe  attack  ;  once  or  twice, 
again,  that  it  was  one  of  unusual  severity.  And  he 
learned,  thus,  what  he  had  not  known  before,  that  a 
nurse  may  be  too  much  interested  in  a  patient  to  see 
symptoms  and  treatment  with  a  perfectly  unbiassed  eye. 
The  time  passed  rapidly.  Jasper  was  not  discouraged, 
when,  at  four,  Dr.  Wirt  came  round,  and  confirmed 
Jasper's  feeling  that  Oscar  was  not  sinking  since  two. 
He  had  certainly  held  his  ground. 

"  If  you  will  send  me  in  some  one  to  take  these  three 
beds,"  said  Jasper,  "  I  will  get  mj'self-some  dinner, 
and  go  round  and  see  how  Dundas  is." 


NUMBER  47.  161 

'*  Dinner  !  "  said  the  doctor.  "  Are  you  mad,  to  have 
put  off  3~our  dinner  a  minute  beyond  the  usual  time  ? 
Do  you  suppose  we  can  do  without  you  ?"  And  he 
ordered  another  nurse  to  the  spot,  and  sent  Jasper  out 
of  the  building. 

Jasper  got  his  dinner,  and  drove  to  Mr.  Dundas's, 
but  did  not  get  an  encouraging  bulletin.  He  let  Mrs. 
Dundas  give  him  a  cup  of  tea,  and  then  went  back  to 
Oscar.  As  he  approached  the  bed,  he  saw  one  of  the 
lady  nurses  was  on  dut}',  between  46  and  47. 

Jasper  passed  in  between  45  and  46,  and  said,  k'I 
will  relieve  you  now,  madam." 

The  nurse  turned  to  thank  him,  and  he  saw  that  it 
was  Bertha. 

11 


162  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 


CHAPTER    XVII. 

A   FRESH    WATER   VOYAGE. 

~p>ERTHA'S  parting  from  the  Rosensteins  had  been  a 
hard  business,  —  hard  to  her  and  hard  to  them. 
Mrs.  Rosenstein  was  in  tears  or  in  sulks  from  the  mo 
ment  she  heard  of  it ;  angry  and  sorry  by  turns :  nor 
could  any  one  have  supposed  that  there  had  ever  been 
moments  when  she  had  pretended  that  she  wanted  to 
turn  poor  Bertha  away.  The  children  were  real  mourn 
ers.  Bertha  loved  them,  they  loved  her.  She  had,  in 
deed,  lifted  them  to  the  knowledge  of  what  real  love  is  ; 
nor  would  it  be  too  much  to  say,  that,  in  their  inter 
course  with  her,  they  forgot  for  the  first  time  the  teas 
ing  and  the  intriguing  habits  to  which  they  had  been 
used  from  childhood,  even  in  their  relations  with  each 
other. 

Bertha  was  to  return  East,  from  Milwaukie,  by  steam 
boat.  The  boat  left  Chicago  on  its  northward  course 
in  the  morning ;  and,  from  the  higher  windows  of  the 
house,  the  children  were  on  the  lookout  to  announce 
when  its  smoke  appeared,  and  when,  therefore,  their 
dear  Miss  Schwarz  would  be  torn  away.  At  last  the 
signal  came.  It  was  certain  that  this  chimney  and 
this  smoke  were  the  real  chimney  and  the  real  smoke. 
Mrs.  Rosenstein  had  ordered  out  the  carriage,  to  give  all 
di"nity  to  Bertha's  departure.  All  the  children  were  to 
go  to  trie  steamer  with  her.  Mr.  Rosenstein,  however, 
had  not  appeared,  and  the}'  had  been  forced  to  drive 
without  him. 

Bertha  had  private  reasons  for  regret! ing  his  absence  ; 
and  her  regret  was  only  partially  relieved,  when,  just  as 
the  carriage  came  to  the  door,  Pix,  as  the  children 


A  FEES II  WATER  VOYAGE.  .        163 

called  the  office-bo}',  came  up  with  this  note  from  Mr. 
Rosenstein,  explaining  his  absence  :  — 

TUESDAY,  P.M. 

DEAR  Miss  SCIIWARZ,  —  I  am  very  sony  not  to  say 
"  goocl-by."  I  am  also  very  much  annoyed,  because, 
from  the  absence  of  the  cashier  at  this  moment,  I  can 
not  send  3'ou  your  money.  I  enclose  forty  dollars,  and 
on  your  arrival  at  Detroit  you  will  find  my  check  for  the 
balance,  which  your  friends  there  will  readily  cash  for  3*011. 
Wishing  3*011  a  pleasant  journe3T,  nay  dear  Miss 
Schwarz,  I  am, 

Very  truly  yours, 

A.  ROSENSTEIN. 

Forty  dollars  was.  in  fact,  enclosed.  But  Bertha 
knew  then,  that  forty  dollars  might  not  cany  her  back 
to  Boston  ;  and  she  was  sony  to  cut  loose  from  her  base 
wholly  dependent  on  a  letter  to  be  received  on  the  way. 
However,  there  was  nothing  to  be  done.  She  kissed 
Mrs.  Rosenstein  for  the  last  time,  and  departed. 

For  one,  I  never  thank  the  enterprising  railroad  com 
panies,  which,  b3*  canying  their  rival  lines  across  Michi 
gan,  have  robbed  us  of  the  old  delight  of  the  vo3*age 
through  Lakes  Michigan  and  Huron,  which  used  to  come 
in  in  such  charming  relief  between  Detroit  and  Mil- 
waukie.  Bertha  was  sony  to  leave  her  pupils,  but  she 
was  very  glad  to  be  going  home.  She  had  met  life  for 
the  first  time  on  her  own  responsibility.  And  she  had 
done  what  she  set  out  to  do.  She  did  not  know  it,  but 
in  her  first  battle  she  had  come  off  conqueror. 

A  battle,  as  defined  b3*  a  distinguished  commander 
of  men,  is  a  scene  of  wild  disorder,  where  3'ou  think 
everything  goes  wrong.  But  under  its  excitement,  he 
says,  time  passes  very  quickty.  You  find  perhaps,  after 
a  few  hours,  which  seem  not  manj'  minntes,  that  more 
things  have  gone  wrong  on  the  other  side  than  on  3'ours. 
And  then,  to  3rour  amazement,  3*ou  know  that  you  are 
victorious. 

This  was  exactly  what  h;i<l  happened  with  Bertha 


164  UPS  AND  D  0  WNS. 

Schwarz.  She  had  undertaken  to  hold  a  certain  post, 
where  she  had  been  stationed  for  an  indefinite  length 
of  time.  A  very  hard  post  it  had  proved  to  be.  Once 
and  again  it  seemed  as  if  she  must  beat  a  retreat,  and 
march  off  as  she  could,  colors  flying  or  colors  trailed. 
And  at  last,  without  any  act  of  hers,  she  was  told  that 
she  was  relieved  from  this  "  Castle  Dangerous  "  to  which 
she  had  pledged  herself;  and,  while  she  was  in  fact 
gaining  everything  she  would  have  gained  b}'  retreat, 
she  was  not  retreating,  but  everybody  was  surrounding 
her  with  tenderness,  and  grieving  for  her  departure. 
Yes  :  Bertha  had  had  her  first  tussle  with  life,  and  had 
come  off  victor. 

And  now  there  was  this  delicious  summer  voyage 
before  her  to  rest  in.  She  had  soon  arranged  her  pretty 
state-room,  opened  the  windows  for  the  best  draught, 
and  then  found  herself  sitting  in  the  shade  on  deck, 
pretending  to  read,  but  really  dreaming  of  home,  as  the 
boat  dashed  along  on  her  vo}^age  to  Mackinac,  and  the 
big,  fleecy  clouds  which  made  mountains  above  the 
horizon  slowly  drifted  by  on  the  clear  blue.  It  is  the 
poetry  of  travelling :  and  it  is  a  sad  pity  there  is  so 
little  left  of  it.  The  boat  stopped  once  and  again,  for 
passengers,  for  freight,  and  for  wood.  The  weather 
was  calm,  —  so  calm  that  Bertha  felt  no  sea-sickness. 
She  could  read  if  she  cared  to  read,  —  she  could  draw 
the  outlines  of  the  cumulus  if  she  cared  to  draw.  Best 
of  all,  she  could  sit  and  watch  the  clouds,  or  at  night 
the  stars,  with  the  happy  consciousness  that  she  was 
not  obliged  to  do  one  thing  or  the  other.  She  might  be 
as  lazy  as  she  pleased,  and  in  her  laziness  she  was 
stealing  no  one's  money  or  time.  She  might  dream  of 
the  future,  she  might  remember  the  past ;  and  there 
was  no  fear  that  the  charming  reverie  would  be  broken 
by,  "  Where  is  Miss  Schwarz  ?  "  or, "  O,  Miss  Schwarz  ! 
the  book  is  wrong,  I  am  sure  it  is  wrong." 

There  arc  some  little  islands  called  the  Mnnito  Islands, 
near  (lie  north  of  Lake  Michigan  ;  and  at  one  of  these 
the  boat  touched  for  woo('.  :  captain  r:une,  and  told 
Bertha  that  they  would  be  '  tail  ed  there  an  hour,  if  she 


A  FEESII  WATER  VOYAGE.  1G5 

liked  to  walk  ;  and  that  he  should  give  all  the  passen 
gers  ample  warning  when  the}'  must  return,  if  only  they 
would  be  careful  to  listen  for  the  bell.  Bertha  gladly 
joined  quite  a  large  walking-part}",  and  they  went  on 
shore.  How  strange  that  anybod}'  should  want  to  live 
on  this  little  island !  And  yet,  clearly  enough,  the 
people  that  lived  there  were  very  like  the  people  who 
lived  elsewhere.  Nay,  Bertha  was  conscious,  as  pos 
sibly  we  all  are,  of  a  certain  interior  sense  of  delight 
which  must  accrue  were  one  monarch  of  all  he  survej^s. 
True,  I  observe  that  all  islanders  quit  their  principal 
ities  when  they  can.  Even  Robinson  Crusoe,  with  Friday ; 
even  Peter  Wilkins,  Masterman  Read}^  the  French 
cabin-bo}',  all  that  redoubtable  compan}-,  with  the  single 
memorable  exception  of  the  Swiss  Family,  have,  at  an 
instant's  call,  abandoned  happy  home,  goats,  wheat- 
fields,  pipkins,  bows  and  arrows,  grottos,  cocoa-nuts, 
melons,  turtles,  eggs,  and  savages,  and  everything  else 
they  had  to  make  them  comfortable,  and,  from  insular 
independence  and  security,  have  returned  to  continental 
laws,  tenures,  and  dangers,  —  to  living  on  wages,  and 
working  at  other  people's  direction.  None  the  less,  in 
our  dreams  of  creature  bliss,  do  we  all  wish,  like  Sancho- 
Panza,  and  Gov.  Steuben,  that  we  were  lords  of  islands. 

The  walking  party  fared  inland,  began  collecting 
flowers,  looked  in  at  one  log-cabin  and  another,  and 
came  almost  immediately  on  one,  the  smallest  of  the 
group,  which  was  evidently  the  school-house,  so  voluble 
and  loud  was  the  storm  of  treble  enunciation  which 
came  pouring  from  the  open  door.  Bertha,  from  pro 
fessional  interest,  and  one  or  two  of  the  other  passen 
gers,  stopped  and  went  in. 

A  slight,  pretty  girl,  who  did  not  seem  to  be  more 
than  seventeen  }*ears  old  herself,  came  forward  to  meet 
them.  She  offered  the  only  chair,  her  own  ;  bade  two 
of  the  bigger  boys  rise,  that  their  bench  might  serve  for 
the  visitors,  and,  with  shyness  undisguised  and  undis- 
guisable,  thanked  them  for  coming  to  see  her  school. 
u  I  do  not  have  many  visitors,"  she  said.  The  children, 
meanwhile,  did  not  affect  to  continue  their  studies,  but 


166  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

dropped  their  books  upon  their  knees,  and  contemplated 
the  dress  of  the  strangers,  and  their  every  movement, 
with  imdissembled  curiosit}'. 

It  wa^;  not  long  before  the  other  passengers  had  seen 
all  they  wanted  to  see  ;  where,  in  fact,  there  was  noth 
ing  to  see  but  what  the^y  had  seen  a  thousand  times 
before.  They  bade  good-by.  But  Bertha  was  drawn  to 
the  young  school-mistress,  by  a  certain  likeness  in  their 
positions ;  and,  while  the  others  walked  on,  she  staid 
behind  to  question  her  as  to  her  experience. 

There  was  hardly  any  story  to  tell.  The  little  mis 
tress  was  not  native  to  the  island  :  she  had  come  thither, 
a  few  weeks  ago,  from  Manitowoc,  a  little  lumber  settle 
ment  on  the  main  land  ;  hearing,  from  the  mate  of  a 
schooner,  that  they  wanted  a  teacher  here.  Yes,  she 
was  lonely  sometimes  ;  but  she  found  all  the  people 
were  kind  to  her,  though  they  did  not  know  much  about 
books.  They  knew  enough  to  know  that  the  children 
must  learn  to  read  them,"  and  that,  the  sooner  they 
learned  the  better  She  thought  the  last  teacher 
must  have  been  careless,  some  of  the  children  were  so 
much  behindhand.  "But  then,"  said  she  prettily,  "I 
am  afraid  the  next  one  will  say  the  same  of  me.  For 
really,  I  know  so  little  myself,  that  I  am  ashamed  to 
pretend  to  teach  them." 

Now,  Bertha  had  said  this  to  herself  ten  thousand 
times,  and  she  knew  she  had.  She  had  said  it,  in  these 
very  words,  in  the  last  letter  she  wrote  home  ;  and  she 
knew  she  had.  But,  for  all  that,  the  moment  she  heard 
this  sister  in  the  craft  say  so,  Bertha,  as  in  duty  bound, 
took  upon  herself  the  part  of  comforter,  and  bravely 
said,  ik  Why,  you  know  more  than  they  do.  You  know 
that  a  b  spells  ab  ;  and  that  is  more  than  some  of  them 
know.  You  know  that  seven  times  seven  is  fody-nine. 
Tluit  is  much  more  than  these  little  boys  know,  I  am 
sure.  That  is  the  way  1  comfort  myself.  For  I  am  a 
i  school -mann '  too." 

••  Are  you?"  said  the  shy  girl;  and  her  heart  opened 
at  once  to  Bertha.  k*  But  you  have  had  some  chance  to 
learn.  And  I,  —  I  have  only  had  the  school  at  Manito- 


A  FRESH  WATER  VOYAGE.  167 

woe  ;  and  I  did  have  father  and  mother  !  "  and  her  large 
blue  eyes  were  full  of  tears. 

"  Yes,"  said  Bertha ;  "  I  have  had  good  teachers ; 
and  man}7  a  time  in  the  last  j'ear  have  I  wondered  why 
I  was  such  a  fool  as  to  let  them  slip  by  me,  without  my 
learning  more  from  them.  Only  give  me  another  chance, 
and  you  shall  see  !  "  And  they  both  laughed,  so  as  to 
make  the  school-children  wonder.  "  But  let  me  tell 
3'ou  one  secret,  that  my  uncle  told  me.  It  was  a  story. 
He  told  me  that  a  great  French  professor  fell  sick ;  and 
his  son,  who  was  a  very  young  man,  had  to  go  and  take 
his  classes  in  astronomy.  Now,  the  young  man  did 
not  know  near  so  much  as  his  father.  But  the  scholars 
liked  him  a  great  deal  better.  And  somebod}'  asked 
him  how  this  happened.  The  young  man  laughed,  and 
said,  '  It  must  be  because  I  am  only  three  lessons  in 
advance  of  the  scholars.'  You  see,  he  knew  what  their 
troubles  and  trials  were. 

"  It  is  as  my  father  says,  — his  ladder  had  the  rungs 
nearer  together.  If  that  is  all  they  want,  mine  are 
close  enough  together."  And  the  shy  girl  laughed,  as 
if  again  quite  at  ease,  and  as  if  she  had  known  Bertha 
always.  For  this  was  Bertha's  way.  Had  these  been 
the  days  of  street-cars,  Bertha  would  always  have  had 
the  confidence  of  all  the  women  in  a  car  before  they 
came  to  Union  Place  or  to  the  City  Hall. 

Bertha  asked  the  little  school-mistress  what  she  had 
to  read.  "  Oh  !  "  said  she,  "  that  is  the  hardest  of  all. 
The  people  take  a  few  newspapers  ;  but  they  are  full  of 
politics.  You  do  not  know  how  much  I  know  about  the 
count}7  elections  in  the  State.  I  brought  all  my  books 
with  me,  and  I  read  them,  and  read  them,  till  I  know 
them  by  heart.  Did  you  ever  read  the  life  of  Henry 
Martyn?  I  have  one  volume  of  the  large  edition  of 
that.  Then  I  have  Dwight's  Sermons,  and  a  volume 
of  Flint's  Letters :  they  were  at  the  house  I  boarded 
at,  and  some  other  books." 

Bertha  was  amazed  at  the  poor  child's  cheerfulness. 
She  knew,  in  her  heart,  that  she  should  have  died  with 
such  a  library.  Her  first  impulse  was  to  say,  "  Let  me 


168  UPS  AND  DO WNS. 

give  you  some  books."  But  she  knew  that  was  not 
best ;  and,  as  the  words  formed  themselves,  she  said 
the  right  thing,  and  not  the  wrong.  "  Would  you  not 
like  to  borrow  some  books  of  me  ?  I  have  a  good  many 
in  my  trunk,  which  I  shall  not  need  all  the  way  home." 

How  that  child's  face  brightened  !  But  how  she  said 
it  was  impossible  !  Then  how  Bertha  explained,  that, 
when  she  had  finished  the  books,  she  could  send  them 
to  Milwaukie.  Then  the  school-mistress  confessed  that 
her  uncle,  the  mate  of  the  schooner,  often  touched  at 
Milwaukie,  and  would  do  anything  for  her.  Then  it 
proved  that  school  was  nearly  done  ;  and  the  mistress 
dismissed  the  scholars,  nothing  loath,  a  little  early,  and 
walked  quickly  with  Bertha  to  the  landing.  The  two 
girls  rushed  on  board,  nodded  to  the  mate,  who  was 
directing  the  business  of  the  wood,  and  learned  from 
him  that  they  had  still  nearly  half  an  hour  before  the 
boat  would  sail.  Half  an  hour  was  a  long  time,  in 
deed  ;  and  Bertha  and  Ruth  entered  Bertha's  state 
room  J03rously,  and  in  a  moment  more  had  her  large 
trunk  open,  and  its  contents  scattered  on  all  the  two 
beds.  How  Ruth's  eyes  watered,  and  how  her  face 
glowed,  as  she  saw  Bertha's  treasures  ! 

And  Bertha,  she  was  so  full  with  the  delight  that  she 
knew  her  treasures  would  give,  that  she  was  willing  to 
part  with  almost  all  of  them.  Not  from  all.  There 
were  two  or  three  of  these  books,  and  those  the  most 
worn  of  all,  which  had  been  partners  of  too  many  sor 
rows  and  too  many  joys ;  they  had  been  wet  with  too 
many  tears,  and  they  had  too  man}r  pencil-marks,  rec 
ords  of  old  sympathy  and  appreciation,  for  Bertha  to 
be  willing  to  part,  even  for  a  day,  from  them.  But  the 
two  girls  turned  them  all  over.  They  talked  and  they 
questioned  and  they  answered.  Bertha  offered  more 
than  Ruth  would  take.  And,  after  all,  Bertha  had  to 
judge,  not.  Ruth,  —  as  how  should  she  ?  Bertha  brought 
together,  on  the  chair  where  they  had  spread  the  news 
paper,  her  two-volume  Tennyson,  Miss  Austen's  "  Em 
ma,"  Mrs.  Follen's  Selections  from  Fenelon,  the  "  Ele 
ments  of  Perspective,"  which  happened  to  have  strayed 


A  FRESH  WATER   VC^JLffE.  1G9 


in  from  the  school-books,  in  which  R 
ons  interest ;  an  odd  volume  of  Lockhart's  Scott ;  Low 
ell's  little  first  volume,  u  A  Year's  Life,"  and  a  volume 
of  Uhland's  poems.  Ruth  said  she  had  one  or  two 
German  children,  and  she  "  might  as  well"  learn  Ger 
man  that  winter  from  some  of  the  mothers.  Bertha 
felt  all  the  grotesque  oddity  of  the  collection.  Ruth 
felt  as  if  it  were  a  bag  of  diamonds.  Bertha  looked  at 
it,  and  said,  "I  must  put  in  something  more.  Oh, 
here  it  is  !  take  my  l  Christian  Year.' "  And  she  put 
into  the  top  of  the  parcel  the  miniature  volume,  and 
said  to  Ruth,  "  Now,  that  one  is  a  keepsake  from  me. 
Do  not  send  that  back  when  you  send  the  others." 

"  Bang  !  bang  !  bang  !  bang  !  "  said  the  bell  up 
stairs  ;  and  hastily  the  girls  folded  the  newspaper  round 
their  treasures,  and  tied  up  a  sorry-looking  parcel. 
They  kissed  each  other,  and  kissed  each  other,  as  if 
they  had  known  each  other  a  hundred  years  ;  and  Ber 
tha  led  Ruth  to  the  gangway,  and  bade  her  good-by. 

The  sun  was  yet  two  hours  high,  and  they  started 
again  on  their  way  to  Mackinac. 

The  last  morning  of  the  voyage,  Bertha  found  herself 
sleepless  ;  for  her,  an  unusual  experience.  So  soon  as 
it  w?s  light,  she  rose  and  dressed  herself,  put  on  her 
cloak,  and  went  on  deck,  that  she  might  be  sure  to  see 
the  sun  rise.  The  deck  was  wet  with  the  fog,  and  the 
lake  was  white  with  it ;  so  that  the  steamer  pushed  on 
as  through  a  cloud.  But  Bertha  was  well  shod  ;  and 
though  she  found  it  too  chilly  to  sit  still,  —  indeed, 
there  was  no  bench  or  other  seat  dry  enough  for  her  to 
sit  upon,  —  she  walked  bravely  up  and  down  and  across 
the  boat,  and  warmed  herself  by  exercise. 

As  she  walked  forward  on  one  of  these  excursions,  — 
for  the  boat  was  so  large  that  they  almost  deserved  that 
name,  —  she  observed  that  below  her,  on  the  forward 
deck,  there  was  a  group  of  men  speaking  in  subdued 
whispers  ;  and  among  them,  in  a  moment,  she  made 
out  the  captain  and  the  first  mate,  whom  she  already 
knew  well.  A  moment  more,  and  the  captain  threw 


170  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

up  his  hand,  as  a  signal  to  the  man  in  the  wheel-house 
above  him,  close  by  where  Bertha  was  standing.  Ber 
tha  heard  his  bell  strike,  as  a  signal  to  the  engineer. 
The  engine  stopped,  and  the  boat  lost  way  slowly. 
The  captain  beckoned  to  some  one  between  decks, 
below  where  Bertha  stood.  All  this  passed  without  a 
word  spoken  aloud,  and  her  curiosity  was  excited  more 
and  more.  In  a  moment,  six  of  the  deck-hands  came 
forward  together,  bearing  on  three  handspikes,  of  which 
they  grasped  both  ends,  a  coarse  wooden  box,  which 
they  laid  upon  the  gang-way  plank.  Bertha  had  al 
ready  observed  that  this  lay  on  the  deck,  as  if  for  a 
landing,  though  there  was  no  land  in  sight ;  and  that 
the  low  plank  bulwark  of  the  forward  deck  was  down, 
as  if  some  one  were  to  come  on  board  or  to  land.  One 
or  two  deck-passengers,  who  seemed  to  be  of  the  poorest 
class  of  emigrants,  —  men  who  had  been  disappointed  in 
Chicago  and  were  going  back  to  Detroit,  followed  the 
little  procession  of  the  bearers.  From  the  manner  of 
them  all,  Bertha  had  no  doubt  that  this  was  a  coffin  she 
was  looking  down  upon. 

The  whole  group,  as  it  gathered  below  her,  was  per 
haps  a  dozen  men,  all  rough  men  in  their  look  and  ap 
parel.  As  the  boat  at  last  lost  head-way  entirely,  the 
mate  nodded  again  to  the  captain  :  the  captain  removed 
his  cap,  and  said,  "  Will  you  take  off  jTour  hats,  while 
we  bury  the  dead?"  The  men 'around  instantly  and 
respectfully  obeyed.  Two  of  them  lifted  the  inner  end 
of  the  gang-way  plank  as  high  as  they  could,  and  as 
quickly.  The  coffin  shot  suddenly  off  into  the  lake. 
It  had  been  weighted  sufficient \y,  —  it  sank  beneath 
the  surface,  —  a  few  rough  bubbles  rose  and  broke,  and 
then  the  little  waves  beat  against  the  steamer's  side  as 
they  did  before.  Two  deck  hands,  without  being  bid 
den,  replaced  the  movable  piece  of  the  boat's  low  bul 
wark  ;  the  captain  waved  his  hand  to  the  pilot,  the 
pilot  touched  his  bell  for  the  engineer,  the  engine  panted 
and  snorted,  the  walking-beam  began  to  move  and  the 
paddles  to  turn,  the  boat  was  in  motion,  and  the  fu 
neral  was  over. 


A  FEESH  WATER  VOYAGE.  171 

Bertha,  as  it  happened,  had  never  seen  any  funeral 
service  before.  The  complete  respect  and  simple  rev 
erence  of  these  rough  sailors  in  the  presence  of  death, 
made  her  think  that  the  most  stately  ceremonial  would 
hardly  express  more. 

As  she  resumed  her  walk  up  and  down  on  the  prom 
enade-deck,  she  met  the  captain. 

"  I  saw  you  looking  at  our  funeral,"  he  said.  "  I 
hope  it  did  not  shock  you.  We  sailors  are  a  rough  set, 
perhaps.  But  I  could  not  carry  this  body  into  De 
troit." 

"  I  was  not  shocked,"  said  Bertha.  "  I  was  greatly 
moved  b}^  the  sympathy  and  respectful  bearing  of  the 
men.  But  who  was  this?  Were  there  no  friends? 
Could  you  not  have  left  him  at  Detroit,  and  why  ?  " 

The  captain  told  her  that  this  was  a  poor  homeless 
fellow  who  had  come  on  board  at  Chicago  to  beg  a  pas 
sage,  which  had  been  given  him.  But  the  day  before, 
too  late  to  leave  him  at  Mackinac,  he  had  suddenly 
been  taken  sick ;  and  there  could  be  no  doubt  to  any 
one  who  had  ever  seen  Asiatic  cholera,  but  that  that 
was  his  disease.  "  Now,  you  know,  Miss  Schwarz, 
that,  so  far,  they  have  no  cholera  at  Detroit ;  and  they 
would  not  thank  me  to  bring  them  a  case  from  the 
westward.  I  thought  the  fairest  thing  I  could  do  for 
th"Mn,  anxious  as  they  are,  was  to  bury  the  poor  fellow 
in  the  lake.  It  is  as  near  to  heaven  as  on  land,  as 
brave  old  Gilbert  said." 

And  Bertha  asked  if  he  had  no  fear  about  his  other 
passengers. 

No.  None  thus  far.  As  she  knew,  he  had  but  few 
deck-passengers,  though  on  his  last  vo}7age  West  he 
carried  two  hundred.  "  We  do  not  carry  near  so  many 
the  other  wa3T."  And  then  the  courteous  captain  ex 
pressed  again  the  hope  which  he  had  expressed  before, 
that  Bertha  would  go  with  him  all  the  way  to  Buffalo. 
Bertha  was  herself  not  certain.  She  would  gladly  go 
to  Boston  as  quickly  as  she  might.  But,  at  her  aunt's 
request,  she  had  written  to  Mrs.  Emlen,  in  Detroit,  to 
say  that  she  would  visit  her  for  a  day  or  two  in  her 


172  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

return  eastward.  Mr.  Rosenstein's  arrangements  about 
money  now  compelled  her,  at  least,  to  go  to  Mrs.  Em- 
len  to  find  his  letter  there.  She  did  not  dare  attempt 
the  journey  to  Boston,  with  its  chances  of  interruption, 
with  what  was  left  of  her  forty  dollars.  So  she  told 
the  friendly  captain  that  she  could  not  decide  whether 
to  go  on  with  him  or  not,  until  she  had  seen  her  friends  ; 
and  he  told  her  that  his  boat  would  remain  at  Detroit 
for  the  better  part  of  the  day,  before  passing  into  the 
lower  lakes,  and  that  she  might  have  that  period  for 
her  decision.  Before  they  parted,  he  gave  her  a  hint 
which  she  was  perfectly  willing  to  act  upon,  —  that  she 
had  better  say  nothing  to  the  other  passengers  of  the 
impromptu  funeral  service  she  had  seen.  To  speak  of 
it  would  do  no  good,  and  it  might  make  them  anxious. 
As  soon  as  they  came  into  the  river,  he  would  tell  them 
the  whole  story,  and  they  could  decide  whether  to  go 
on  with  him  or  no.  "  For  nryself,"  said  he,  "  I  have 
seen  cholera  too  often,  and  know  too  well  how  little  any 
man  knows  of  it,  to  be  more  afraid  of  it  in  one  place 
than  in  another.  I  shall  do  my  duty  by  this  boat, 
which  the  owners  have  intrusted  to  me.  And  for  the 
rest,  the  good  God  will  care.'* 

Bertha  said  nothing,  but  looked  him  full  in  the  face, 
and  gave  him  her  hand  with  a  frankness  which  showed 
him  that  she  trusted  him.  And,  from  that  moment, 
she  would  rather  have  made  all  her  voyage  with  this 
captain,  although  she  saw  the  risk  of  a  cholera-tainted 
vessel.  Bertha  also  had  lived  long  enough  to  learn  to 
believe  in  men  more  than  in  things. 

Nothing  was  said  at  breakfast,  to  show  any  alarm 
among  the  passengers.  The  captain's  secret  had  not 
yet  found  its  way  so  far  as  the  occupants  of  the  first 
cabin.  But,  as  the  morning  passed,  as  Bertha  sat  read 
ing  in  the  saloon,  she  noticed  that  a  gentleman,  who 
was  playing  euchre  not  far  off,  was  summoned  to  his 
slate-room.  A  ft  or  a  few  minutes  he  returned  a^ain, 
and  cume  to  Bertha  herself,  directly,  to  ask  her  if  she 
would  see  his  wile,  who  was  taken  suddenly  ill.  Ber 
tha  hud  made  their  acquaintance  on  the  voyage  ;  and 


A  FUESH  WATEE  VOYAGE.  173 

they  had  very  kindly  shielded  her,  as  they  could,  from 
the  discomforts  of  loneliness.  She  went  at  once  to  the 
poor  lady's  room,  —  I  had  almost  said  her  cell,  —  and 
saw  in  an  instant  that  she  was  very  ill.  Not  that  she 
complained  much;  but  she  said,  "O  Miss  Schwarz,  I 
am  so  weak !  I  don't  know  what  ails  me.  What  do 
you  think  can  be  the  matter  with  me  ?  " 

Her  face  had  a  pale,  sunken,  earthy  look,  so  that 
Bertha  even  wondered  if  she  should  have  known  her. 
But  what  alarmed  her  most,  as  the  poor  lady  looked  at 
her  with  an  expression  of  anxiety  rather  than  pain,  was 
that  bluish  margin  round  the  eyes,  of  which  she  had 
read  the  description  so  often,  that  it  would  have  told 
her  the  wiiole  story,  had  she  not  known  that  one  man 
had  already  died  "of  cholera  on  that  vessel  since  mid 
night.  She  sent  Mr.  Umberhine  at  once  to  the  boat's 
kitchen  for  hot  water.  She  brought  her  own  little 
stores  of  medicines  from  her  state-room,  and  overhauled 
the  sick  lady's.  So  soon  as  it  was  known  that  anybody 
was  ill,  she  had  a  heterogeneous  mass  of  bottles  thrust 
upon  her  by  all  the  different  passengers,  from  the  pure 
laudanum  of  the  "thorough"  school,  round  to  the  lo 
belia  and  cayenne  pepper  of  the  come-outers.  If  Ber 
tha  had  administered  in  turn  from  each  of  the  phials 
which  she  took  and  thanked  for,  and  arranged  out  of 
the  sight  of  her  hardly  conscious  patient,  her  practice 
would  have  been  as  intelligible,  and  perhaps  as  effica 
cious,  as  most  of  the  cholera  practice  of  that  day.  As 
it  was,  she  hardly  ventured  on  the  physician's  field. 
She  knew  what  peppermint  was,  and  that  she  dared  to 
administer.  Two  or  three  times  Mr.  Umberhine  took 
the  responsibility  of  laudanum.  But,  for  the  most  part, 
all  they  could  do  was  to  try  to  keep  their  patient  warm, 
to  follow  the  S3Tmptoms  as  best  they  could,  and  to  hope 
for  a  favorable  turn. 

Before  dinner-time  had  come,  they  were  not  alone  in 
their  anxieties.  Everybody  on  board  the  boat  knew 
that  they  had  cholera  as  a  fellow-passenger. 

Two  other  ladies,  a  little  child,  and  one  of  the  gen 
tlemen  in  the  lirst  cabin,  were  sick  in  their  state-rooms  ; 


174  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

and  it  was  whispered  that  that  fine  first  mate,  with 
whom  Bertha  had  had  many  a  good  walk  in  the  early 
morning  and  late  in  the  evening,  was  d}Ting  in  his  room 
forward.  There  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  look  at  the 
declining  sun,  and  to  pray  that  evening  would  come  ;  for 
by  sunset  they  would  arrive  at  the  city. 

Sunset  came.  They  arrived  at  the  city.  And  no 
body  was  dead.  There  was  so  much  to  be  thankful 
for.  The  good  captain  was  relieved  from  at  least  one 
anxiety  the  moment  he  landed.  He  called  the  shore- 
clerk  on  one  side,  in  a  whisper  told  him  that  he  had 
cholera  on  board,  and  asked  whether  there  were  any 
port-regulations  which  would  hinder  his  landing  his 
passengers.  But  before  lie  was  done,  the  man  told  him 
that  poor  Detroit  was  cholera-stricken  already ;  and 
that  live  cases,  more  or  less,  would  neither  make  nor 
relieve  alarm.  They  determined,  in  their  hurried 
council,  to  land  the  passengers  who  were  well  as  soon 
as  might  be,  and  then  to  run  the  boat  to  a  landing 
lower  down  the  river,  whence  the  sick  passengers  could 
be  transferred  more  easily  to  the  hospital.  This  de 
termination  was  at  once  announced  to  the  passengers 
of  both  grades.  The  captain  also  told  them  that  he 
should  defer  his  after  voyage  to  Buffalo,  at  least  till 
the  boat  could  be  cleaned  and  fumigated.  They  had 
no  choice,  therefore,  but  to  go  at  once  on  shore. 

Bertha  staid  with  her  suffering  friend.  But  by  this 
time  she  \vas  certain  that  the  paroxysms  of  the  disease 
were  not  so  acute  as  before  ;  and  her  sleep,  due  to  the 
laudanum  perhaps,  was  sufficient  to  relieve  her,  in  a 
measure,  from  pain.  When  the  br.at  had  run  down  to 
the  hospital  landing,  and  when  the  careful  hospital  at 
tendants  were  ready  with  their  litter  to  carry  the  poor 
lady  to  her  bed,  she  was  in  one  of  these  drowsy,  un 
conscious  turns ;  and  it  seemed  as  if  they  made  the 
transfer  without  her  knowledge,  and  without  new  pain. 

When  they  saw  her  lying  tranquilly  in  a  civilized 
bed,  with  a»nice  Quaker  nurse  directing  every  little  ac 
cessory  for  comfort,  Bertha  felt  a  sense  of  relief,  al 
most  as  if,  the  disease  was  already  conquered.  Mr. 


A  FRESH  WATEE  VOYAGE.  175 

Umberkine,  for  his  part,  took  her  by  both  hands,  the 
tears  flowing  unchecked  down  his  cheeks,  and  said,  "  I 
can  never  thank  you  enough,  Miss  Schwarz.  But  you 
must  not  stay  here  to  be  thanked.  You  have  been 
breathing  this  atmosphere  of  contagion  too  long. 
What  can  I  do  for  you  now,  and  where  can  I  send 
you?" 

Bertha  saw  that  there  was  nothing  for  which  she  was 
needed  now  ;  and  she  told  Mr.  Umberhine,  that,  if  He 
would  find  a  carriage  for  her,  she  would  go  to  her 
friend  Mrs.  Emlen's. 

She  said  her  "  friend  Mrs.  Emlen's."  But  she  had 
been  painfully  conscious,  all  the  afternoon,  that  Mrs. 
Emlen  would  not  know  her  from  Eve  or  from  Adah  or 
from  Zillah,  except  by  costume.  Nor  was  it  quite 
clear  to  Bertha's  mind  that  Mrs.  Emlen  would  welcome, 
with  the  utmost  cordiality,  a  strange  girl,  who  wrould 
have  to  confess,  in  the  first  moment,  that  she  had  just 
come  from  an  infected  vessel,  and  that  she  had  been  all 
day  long  hanging  over  a  cholera  patient.  But,  after 
thinking  it  all  over,  Bertha  determined  to  try  the  ad 
venture,  as  the  old  romancers  say.  It  was  doing  as 
she  would  be  done  by.  That  she  was  sure  of.  If  she 
were  living  in  Boston,  and  Mrs.  Emlen  came  to  her  and 
said  she  was  Aunt  Mary's  friend,  she  would  welcome 
her  gladly,  though  she  came  at  midnight,  and  came 
after  nursing  fort^y  cholera  patients.  At  any  rate,  she 
must  go  to  the  Emlens'  to  get  Mr.  Rosenstein's  letter. 
For,  indeed,  until  she  received  that,  she  had  hardly  a 
right  to  go  anywhere.  Bertha  was  sorr}^  now,  that, 
even  at  the  last  moment,  she  had  not  ordered  her 
trunks  back  from  the  boat  at  Milwaukie,  and  waited 
for  the  boat  of  Saturday.  She  saw  now  that  she 
should  not  have  started  on  her  journey  without  the 
mono}'. 

Mr.  Umberhine  was  long  in  returning  with  the  car 
riage.  It  was  after  nine  o'clock  before  he  came.  Even 
then  there  was  a  good  deal  of  doubt  of  where  they 
were  to  go  to.  Bertha  was  quite  sure  of  the  address, 
—  of  the  name,  and  of  the  street.  But  the  driver  of 


176  UPS  AND  D 0  WNS. 

the  carriage  was  quite  sure,  that,  if  she  had  the  name 
right,  the  street  was  wrong,  —  that  nobody  named 
Einlcn  lived  on  that  street ;  indeed,  there  were  but 
three  houses  there.  As  for  Mr.  William  Emlen,  the 
driver  knew  him  as  well  as  he  knew  his  own  father. 
Indeed,  he  hardly  knew  any  one  else.  Yon  would 
have  thought  the  happiest  hours  of  his  life  were  spent 
in  going  to  Mr.  William  Emlen's  house,  and  in  taking 
Mr.  William  Emlen's  children  to  ride.  Before  such 
pertinacity  Bertha  gave  wa}',  though  the  man  had  to 
confess  that  his  Mr.  William  Emlen  lived  far  from  the 
place  hers  lived.  Mr.  Umberhine  faintly  oifered  to  go 
with  her  on  this  night  quest.  But  this  she  would  not 
hear  of.  She  told  him  to  stay  with  his  wife,  and  she 
would  be  sure  to  see  them  early  in  the  morning. 

So  they  rode  and  rode  and  rode,  nearly  half  an  hour, 
as  it  seemed  to  Bertha.  At  last  they  came  to  a  hand 
some  house,  evidently  quite  on  the  outskirts  of  the  city. 
To  Bertha's  relief  it  was  lighted.  She  had  been  afraid 
they  would  all  be  in  bed.  She  rang,  and  announced 
herself  at  the  door,  and  awaited  somewhat  nervously 
her  welcome. 

She  was  not  asked  in,  but  was  left  standing  in  the 
hall.  That  was  a  bad  omen.  In  a  moment  Mrs. 
Einlyn  came  herself,  an  elderly  lady,  tall,  dried  up, 
and  decidedly  forbidding.  Poor  Bertha  worked  through 
her  explanation  as  best  she  could,  trying  not  to  Apol 
ogize,  and  especially  not  to  cry.  But,  before  she  was 
half  through,  the  old  lady  condescended  to  set  all  right 
by  explaining,  in  a  very  magnificent  manner,  that  it 
was  all  a  mistake  :  that  she  was  Mrs.  Robert  Einlyn, 
and  that  this  was  Mr.  Robert  Emtyn's  house  ;  and  that 
they  spelt  their  name  "  lyn,"  and  not  "  len."  As  for 
Mr.  William  Emlen,  who  spelt  his  name  "  len,"  she  be 
lieved  he  was  a  very  respectable  person ;  indeed,  she 
was  sure  he  was  ;  but  he  was  no  relation  of  theirs. 
She  believed  he  lived  in  Aver}T  Street ;  indeed,  she  was 
sure  he  did  ;  which  was  just  what  Bertha  had  been  sure 
of  in  the  beginning.  So  poor  Bertha  had  sunk  the 
better  part  of  an  hour,  and  had  gained  nothing.  She 


A  FEE 8 II  WATEE  VOYAGE.  177 

tried  to  keep  in  her  tears,  bade  the  stiff  old  lady  good 
evening,  took  care  not  to  apologize  or  to  thank  her, 
there  being  nothing  to  thank  her  for,  and  did  not  abuse 
the  crestfallen  coachman.  For  Bertha's  grandfather 
had  taught  her  never  to  quarrel  with  a  porter. 

Back  again  in  the  dark  night,  retracing  more  than 
half  the  way  which  they  had  come.  Here  is  Aveiy 
Street  at  last,  and  here  at  last  is  the  house  !  But  it  is 
dark  as  midnight.  What  a  pity !  They  must  have 
gone  to  bed ;  and  no  wonder,  for  it  is  long  after  ten. 
With  some  hesitation  Bertha  rings.  No  answer.  She 
rings  again.  No  answer  from  the  house,  but  a  man's 
voice  hails  her  from  the  opposite  side  of  the  street. 

"  Who  are  you  trying  to  find?" 

" Mr.  William  Emlen.     Is  this  his  house? " 

"  Yes :  that's  his  house,  but  the  house  is  shut  up ; 
the  famity  went  to  Rochester  about  a  month  ago." 

Nothing  for  it,  but  to  bid  the  coachman  drive  to  the 
nearest  hotel. 

At  the  nearest  hotel,  Bertha  observed  that  the  atten 
tive  porter  whispered  to  the  coachman  before  he  opened 
the  carriage-door.  Then  the  coachman  found  some 
difficulty  in  opening  it ;  and  before  the  door  was  opened 
the  attentive  hotel-clerk  was  on  the  sidewalk,  and  asked 
if  it  was  true  that  the  lady  had  come  from  the  u  Henry 
Clay."  Bertha  said  she  had.  The  attentive  clerk  was 
very  sorry,  but  he  had  heard  that  the  "  Clay  "  had  some 
cholera  cases  on  board.  Bertha  said  she  certainly  had. 
The  attentive  clerk  said  he  was  still  more  sony,  but  his 
regular  boarders  would  certainly  not  permit  him  to  re 
ceive  any  passengers  from  the  "  Clay."  Perhaps  the 
lady  had  some  friends  in  town ;  or  perhaps  she  could 
spend  the  night  on  board  the  boat ;  indeed,  there 
could  be  no  difficulty  in  her  spending  it  there. 

This  time  Bertha  was  angry.  But  she  said  nothing 
to  the  attentive  clerk.  She  only  bade  the  coachman 
take  her  back  to  the  boat's  regular  landing.  No,  my 
poor  dove,  no  !  No  rest  here  for  the  sole  of  your  foot ! 
The  ark  you  left  is  gone  !  There  are  the  lights  of  the 
boat  out  in  the  stream,  where  the  captain  has  taken 
12 


178  UPS  AND  D  0  WNS. 

her,  and  has  anchored,  for  the  best  breeze  he  knows 
how  to  find. 

"  Then  take  me  back  to  the  hospital,"  said  Bertha. 
"  There  is  one  person  in  the  world  who  will  be  glad  to 
see  me,  and  she  is  there." 

So  poor  Bertha  spent  that  night  at  the  hospital.  So 
it  was  that  the  next  day  she  volunteered  for  duty  as  a 
nurse ;  and  so  it  was,  as  evening  drew  near,  that  she 
was  sitting  between  46  and  47,  when  Jasper  Rising  said 
to  her,  "  I  will  relieve  you  now,  madam." 


THE  HEAVEN  ON  THE  EARTH.  179 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

THE  HEAVEN  ON  THE  EARTH. 

FROM  the  moment  when  Jasper  found  that  poor  Os 
car  also  had  broken  down,  he  had,  for  the  first  time, 
despaired.  Not  that  he  would,  in  any  formal  way, 
have  owned  this  to  himself ;  far  less  to  any  one  else. 
Still,  he  despaired.  The  stake  was  so  precious  that  he 
dared  not  play  the  game,  and  he  knew  he  should  not 
play  it  well.  For  he  had  become  endeared  to  this  waif, 
whom  the  flood  had  thrown  at  his  feet  when  he  was 
himself  poorest  of  men,  with  a  tenderness  which  only 
those  can  conceive  who  have,  at  any  moment  in  life, 
been  absolutely  lonely.  In  a  thousand  wa}Ts,  little  or 
great,  as  }'ou  may  choose  to  call  them,  Oscar,  who 
called  himself  Jasper's  man  Friday,  had  become  an 
essential  part  of  this  poor,  lonely  Robinson's  life.  And 
now  Oscar's  life  was  threatened  too.  Jasper,  who  had 
kept  a  cheerful  face  before,  kept  that  now.  But  his 
face  was  a  lie.  He  had  had  a  cheerful  heart  before, 
and  that  was  now  hopeless.  Even  when  he  had  gone 
to  Mr.  Buffum's  house,  or  to  Mr.  Dundas's,  he  had  had 
a  braver  feeling.  There  he  could  see  the  wealth  of 
ministration.  There  was  all  the  lavishness  of  home 
nursing,  which  retains  every  energy  of  the  household 
for  the  service  of  the  sick,  changes  stones  into  bread 
almost,  and  water  into  wine,  by  its  miracles  of  devo 
tion  ;  and,  when  one  sees  that,  it  is  very  hard  to  feel 
that  victory  can  be  refused  to  forces  so  resolute.  But 
when  Jasper  saw  his  poor  boy  tying  on  bed  No.  47, 
under  its  plain  white  coverlet,  with  nothing  at  his  side 
but  the  regulation  table  »and  the  regulation  chair,  and, 


180  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

more,  than  all,  when  the  doctor  had  sent  him  away  from 
that  bed,  Jasper,  in  his  heart,  despaired. 

One  element  in  the  despair,  and  an  element  which  he 
did  acknowledge  to  himself,  was,  that  he  had  no  woman 
to  bring  to  the  rescue.  Most  men,  from  early  training 
and  habit,  hate  sickness,  know  nothing  of  it,  despise 
themselves  when  they  are  sick,  and  undcr-estimate  their 
own  powers  in  a  sick-room.  For  the  same  reason  they 
over-estimate  the  resources  which  woman  certainly  can 
bring  there.  If  they  can  once  turn  a  competent  woman 
in  on  the  case,  men  feel  as  if  the  victory  was  already 
won :  as  Barbarossa  knew  he  should  have  the  heron 
the  moment  he  had  slipped  his  falcon.  The  element 
of  despair,  therefore,  which  Jasper  did  understand,  was, 
that  he  had  no  woman  whom  he  could  bring  into  the 
fight.  He  would  not  send  for  his  aunt.  He  thought 
he  had  no  right  to  expose  her  to  danger.  He  knew 
Mrs.  Dundas  well  enough  to  have  been  willing  to  take 
his  poor  boy  to  her.  But  Mrs.  Dundas  had  other  care 
now.  And  as  Jasper  went  down  that  night  to  the  hos 
pital,  it  was  with  the  wretched  feeling  that  the  crisis 
was  as  good  as  over,  and  that  the  turn  would  be  against 
him :  that  he  must  try  to  do,  in  his  clumsy  man  fash 
ion,  what  needed,  through  and  through,  the  most  ex 
quisite  womanly  instincts :  that  he  could  not  for  love, 
certainly  not  for  money,  command  these  in  the  exi 
gency.  This  was  one  reason — and  Jasper  had  many 
—  wiry,  in  one  word,  he  despaired. 

It  was  with  that  feeling  that  he  came  to  No.  47,  and 
saw  Bertha  sitting  between  it  and  46.  "  I  will  relieve 
you  now,  madam,"  he  said  ;  and  Bertha  turned  round. 

"Are  3^ou  here?"  said  Jasper,  and  then  it  was  all 
but  aloud  that  lie  added,  —  what  passed  distinctly 
through  his  heart  and  mind, —  "  then  all  will  be  well." 

May  it  be  confessed,  in  the  secrecy  of  these  pages, 
that  an  emotion  or  a  thought  not  wholly  dissimilar 
passed  through  Bertha's  mind?  Bertha  had  been  dis 
satisfied  with  herself.  The  self-congratulation  of  the 
first  exit  from  Milvvankic  had  gone.  Four  or  five  days 
only  had  been  enough  to  show  her  that  she  was  not 


THE  HEAVEN  ON  THE  EARTH.  181 

steering  her  boat  very  steadily  nor  very  wisely.  Yes  : 
it  had  been  very  fine  to  be  rid  of  the  persecutions  of 
Mrs.  Rosenstein.  Nay,  it  had  been  a  rest  not  to  have 
the  questions  of  the  children  to  answer.  But  to  be 
foot-loose  iri  a  strange  city,  without  a  roof  to  one's  head, 

—  that  was  not  fine.     To  be  seven  hundred  miles  from 
home,  with  hardly  monej7  enough  to  go  there, — that 
was  not  fine.     To  be  one  of  a  hundred  passengers  from 
a   cholera-tainted   vessel,  of  whom  six  or  eight  were 
already  dead  or  dying,  to  be  this  in  a  strange  town, 
where  no  one  of  her  friends  knew  that  she  was,  —  that 
was  not  fine.     To  receive  woixL  that  it  was  not  deter 
mined  when  the  steamer  would  go  forward  to  Buffalo, 

—  that  was  not  fine.     Bertha  was  addressing  herself  to 
her  new  duty  with  such  energy  as  she  could  ;  but  she 
could  not  resist  the  feeling  that  she  was,  for  all  human 
companionship,  utterly  alone.     And  just  then  Mr.  Ris 
ing  walked  up  to  the  other  side  of  No.  47  ;  and  when 
he  said,  "Are  you  here?"     Bertha  could  hardly  keep 
herself  from  saying  aloud, — what,  perhaps,  she  might 
have  said  without  criticism,  —  '"Then  all  Avill  be  well." 
In  the  secrecy  of  these  pages,  it  may  be  confessed  that 
the  thought  passed,  distinctly  yet  gladly,  through  her 
mind. 

And  was  it  sympathy,  or  do  3*011  choose,  my  dear 
Buchner,  to  say  it  was  mechanism,  that,  when  Jasper 
had,  with  real  surprise  and  with  e3res  that  flashed  with 
delight,  shaken  hands  with  Bertha  across  the  narrow 
bed ;  when  he  had  nodded  in  answer  to  her  unspoken 
intimation  that  the  boy  seemed  to  be  asleep,  as  he  sat 
in  the  regulation  chair,  and  looked  down  to  see  if  that 
chalky  face  seemed  quite  as  anxious  as  when  he  left  the 
bed-cide,  was  it  sympatlry,  or  mechanism,  or  accident, 
that  Oscar  threw7  his  head  back,  and  smiled  with  his 
exquisite  smile,  and  without  opening  his  e}'es,  just  ad 
justed  his  head  on  a  cooler  part  of  the  pillow,  and  said 
aloud,  with  his  pretty  foreign  accent,  "  Oh !  are  you 
here?  then  all  will  be  well."  Then  the  boy  did  go  to 
sleep.  A  sleep  which  seemed  so  natural,  whose  breath 
ing  was  so  quiet,  and  in  which  he  lay  so  easily,  that  it 


182  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

was  hard  to  think  it  was  laudanum,  and  only  laudanum. 
They  sat,  still  as  death,  watching  the  boy,  till  Jasper 
could  bear  the  silence 'no  longer  ;  and  he  rose  from  his 
seat,  and,  with  the  absolute  silence  of  a  determined 
man's  firm  step,  walked  across  the  ward,  and  beckoned 
Bertha  to  follow  him.  She  came  as  noiselessly  as  he, 
and  joined  him  at  the  window. 

"It  is  such  a  relief  to  find  you  here,  Miss  Schwarz  ! 
I  came  down  the  hill  wishing,  and  I  may  say  praying, 
that  God  would  send  a  woman  here." 

"  I  am  sure  I  am  glad  I  am  here,"  said  Bertha,  won 
dering  as  she  spoke  whether  an}7  man  could  know  how 
glad  a  separated  woman  is  to  find  herself  again  in  a 
home  where  she  is  needed,  and  can  take  her  turn. 

"  But  you  do  not  know,"  said  Jasper,  eagerly,  "  you 
cannot  know,  what  this  boy  is  to  me.  And  how  do  you 
find  him  ?  Do  you  think  he  has  failed  this  afternoon  ?  " 

"Failed!"  said  Bertha,  this  time  with  surprise. 
"  Certainly,  not  failed."  And  Jasper  blessed  her  as 
she  said  so.  "  You  know,"  said  she,  "  or  rather  you 
do  not  know,  that  I  know  nothing  of  this  disease.  I 
never  saw  it,  I  hardly  ever  thought  of  it,  till  yesterday 
morning.  But  I  have  been  here  now,  with  these  eight 
beds,  since  half-past  four.  I  cannot  think  there  is  any 
failure.  He  has  lain  perfectly  gently,  has  asked  for 
nothing,  and  has  seemed  free  from  distress,  certainly 
for  two  hours.  He  has  not  spoken  till  just  now." 

Two  hours  of  quiet,  if  it  were  as  quiet  as  this,  clearly 
not  the  quiet  of  collapse,  which  Jasper  knew  only  too 
well,  this  was  something.  He  was  too  good  a  nurse  to 
run  and  ask  the  doctor  how  much  it  meant ;  but  he  was 
tempted  to  take  the  boy's  words  as  an  oracle,  and  to 
accept  Bertha's  cheerful  statement  as  prophecy  as  well, 
and  believe  that  all  would  be  well. 

Then  he  told  her,  as  far  as  he  could  in  the  hurried 
whispered  talk  of  twilight  there,  who  Oscar  was,  and 
what  he  was  to  him.  His  eyes  fairly  filled  with  tears 
and  ran  over,  as  he  tried  to  make  her  understand  this, 
by  a  little  histor}r,  and  even  by  one  or  two  details, 
which,  without  his  meaning  it,  showed  what  he  was  to 


THE  HEAVEN  ON  THE  EAETH.  183 

Oscar.  And  as  he  wasted  jnst  one  word  perhaps,  or 
stepped  just  one  hair  beyond  what  was  wholly  neces 
sary  in  telling  her  how  lonely  he  had  been  without  Os 
car,  and  how  like  death  to  him  the  thought  of  being 
without  him  again,  poor  Bertha,  fresh  from  her  mem 
ories  of  the  last  twenty-four  hours,  could  not  help  arrest 
ing  him  by  saying,  "  You  need  not  describe  loneliness 
to  me." 

Of  course,  the}7  did  not  stand  there  chattering.  She 
went  back  to  her  regular  charge,  passing  quietly  from 
bed  to  bed  of  the  eight  intrusted  to  her,  and  sitting  by 
each  patient  long  enough  to  get  that  specific  and  dis 
tinct  notion  of  each  individual  case  which  is  invaluable 
to  the  physician,  and  on  which,  indeed,  the  whole  strug 
gle  depends.  Jasper,  also,  had  reported  for  duty  ;  and 
once  and  again,  as  the  night  went  by,  he  went  his 
rounds.  But  the  most  of  the  night  he  spent  by  No.  47, 
watching  each  change,  and  answering  as  he  best  could 
every  entreaty  of  his  boy. 

Not  a  long  night,  either.  I  think  Jasper  could  tell 
us  to-day  each  turn  it  took  as  the  hours  went  by,  of  the 
varying  fortunes,  the  ups  and  downs  of  every  bed  from 
39  to  47,  between  the  late  sunset  and  the  early  sunrise 
of  that  hot  July  night.  Most  distinct  of  all,  however, 
was  this,  that  there  was  no  cramp-turn  for  poor  47  ; 
sleep  scarcely  broken ;  and,  more  and  more  clearly, 
sleep  nature-given  and  not  opium-bought.  Jasper  him 
self  looked  like  another  man,  to  say  nothing  of  his  pa 
tient,  when  at  sunrise  the  doctor  came  round.  And 
Bertha,  oh,  how  pretty  she  was  in  her  little  hospital 
cap  !  she  was  fairly  lovely  in  her  glad  sympathy. 

No :  there  was  no  doubt  so  far.  Of  course  there 
might  be  a  relapse,  and  by  this  time  the}7  knew,  all 
three,  what  a  relapse  was.  But  clearly  this  had  been 
one  of  those  cases  where  this  mysterious  disease  stopped 
as  suddenly  as  it  began.  The  handsome,  kindly  doctor 
said  all  this  with  as  much  feeling  and  tenderness  as 
Jasper  himself  could  have  asked,  and  seemed  not  the 
least  happy  of  the  three.  Indeed,  it  had  been  a  good 
night  through  the  hospital.  God  Almightly  only  knew 


184  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

what,  but  something  had  happened  ;  everything  seemed 
better  to-day.  "  We  have  some  good  angel  here,"  said 
the  doctor  reverently,  as  he  went  on  to  No,  48,  who 
heard  every  S3Tllable,  and  was  better  because  he  heard. 

And  for  poor  Oscar,  there  was  no  relapse.  No* 
There  were  days  on  days,  indeed,  before  he  was  done 
with  it,  weeks  on  weeks  of  abject  weakness  incompre 
hensible  to  him,  who,  till  now,  had  known  nothing  but 
the  sheer  omnipotence  of  sixteen,  seventeen,  and  eight 
een  years.  First,  that  he  might  not  be  up  and  about ; 
second,  that  he  could  not,  if  they  would  let  him  ;  these 
were  two  incomprehensible  mysteries.  Jasper  reasoned 
and  directed,  tried  to  amuse  him,  and  sometimes,  per 
force,  had  to  threaten  him  With  the  doctor,  and  to  lay 
down  the  law.  But  Bertha,  she  could  manage  him  fifty 
times  better  than  Jasper.  How  it  happened  she  did 
not  know.  She  laughed  about  it  herself.  For  she  was 
a  very  young  matron,  not  a  day  older  than  Oscar,  if 
one  may  guess.  But  all  the  authority  of  every  mother, 
aunt,  grandmother  or  school-mistress  of  them  all  had 
fallen,  like  some  heavy  mantle-piece,  on  Bertha's  head  ; 
and  what  she  bade  Oscar  do  he  did  ;  and  what  she  bade 
him  shun  he  shunned.  The  wisest,  jolliest,  most  in 
genious  and  most  gentle  little  nurse  you  ever  knew. 

"  I  don't  like  to  have  them  walk,"  said  the  doctor. 
"  I  am  half  of  that  German's  mind,  that  the  original 
human  being  got  on  his  hind  legs  a  little  before  he  was 
read}' ;  or  better,  if  you  please,  that  the  human  being 
of  to-da}^  does  not  recline  enough.  As  my  wide-awake 
classmate,  Sargent,  says,  —  how  I  wish  he  were  here  ! 
— '  Let  us  preserve  the  horizontal  attitude.'  I  don't 
like  to  have  them  walk  ;  if  3^011  could  get  down  one  of 
3Tour  eas3r  rockaways,  Mr.  Rising,  the  bo3T.is  so  eager 
to  see  something  besides  the  river  and  the  opposite 
shore,  we  might  indulge  him." 

"  Wli3T  not  row  ?  "  said  Jasper. 

"  Oh,  well !  exactty,  if  3*011  think  you  can  hunt  up  a 
boatman  :  nothing  could  be  better.  Let  Miss  Schwarz 
tumble  some  rugs  or  pillows  into  a  boat,  and  lie  can 
keep  the  horizontal.  The  sun  won't  hurt  him,  if  you 


THE  HEAVEX  0JV  THE  EARTH.  185 

shade  his  head.  Sun  does  people  good.  Miss  Schwarz, 
go  with  them,  and  do  not  let  Mr.  Rising  give  the  boy  a 
sunstroke,  nor  get  one  himself,  either." 

Wise  doctor !  kind  doctor !  How  far-seeing  these 
men  are  who  prescribe  not  only  for  their  patients,  but 
for  the  families  ;  yes,  and  for  the  nurses  also. 

Eas}r  enough,  of  course,  for  Jasper  to  find  the  boat, 
so  long  disused  ;  to  empty  her  from  the  water  which 
had  kept  her  from  leaking  ;  to  paddle  her  down  to  the 
qua}*,  where  poor  Oscar  was  so  tired  of  sitting  the 
whole  afternoon.  Then  what  a  Cydnus-barge  they 
made  of  her,  with  their  hair-pillows  and  wraps,  their 
rugs  and  blankets !  Then  how  gently  Jasper  lifted 
Oscar  in,  and  what  a  deft  arrangement  which  made  an 
umbrella  awning  over  him  and  Bertha  too,  as  she  sat 
in  the  stern,  and  guarded  her  patient  from  any  turn  of 
sun  or  splash  of  water.  And  how  happy  Jasper,  as  he 
dipped  his  oars  and  slowly  pulled  the  boat  up  to  the 
old  bathing-place  again. 

"This  is  too  good!"  said  Oscar.  "This  is  the 
heaven  on  the  earth." 

"  You  love  the  water?"  asked  Bertha. 

"Is  it  that  I  love  the  water?  yes;  every  one  loves 
the  water ;  but  it  is  that  we  always  take  the  boat  when 
there  is  no  care.  When  there  is  no  customer  who  can 
not  be  suit :  man  wants  wagon  to  weigh  nothing  at  all, 
but  must  have  strong  steel  axles,  that  shall  not  bend 
one  hair,  all  the  same :  when  there  is  no  screw  loose  in 
the  workshop ;  lazy  dog,  English,  beer-drinking-dog, 
say  he  come  and  finish  job,  and  no  come ;  go  off  on 
spree,  never  come  at  all.  When  it  is  all  right  and  all 
smooth,  then  Master  Robinson  he  take  the  canoe,  I 
take  the  paddle.  I  man  Friday,  Miss  Schwarz  ;  and 
we  come  go  up  the  river  here,  and  we  swim..  O  Miss 
Schwarz  !  this  is  the  heaven  on  the  earth.  All  will  be 
well  now." 

Bertha  and  Jasper  both  remembered  the  oracle  of 
that  first  night  l)y  No.  47.  She  caught  his  eye,  and  he 
hers ;  and  each  smiled  a  happy  smile.  Then  the  boy 
ran  on  in  his  simple  talk  about  the  things  he  saw: 


186  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

every,.warehouse,  every  hulk  of  a  canal^boat  or  stranded 
steamer  laid  up  for  repairs,  had  a  story  for  him,  or 
suggested  some  pleasant  memory.  Jasper  was  in  no 
hurry.  It  seemed  the  heaven  on  the  earth  for  him. 
And  a  lovely  invalid's  tour  it  was  along  the  cool  river, 
with  that  soft,  fragrance-laden  south  wind  blowing  over 
them,  till  they  came  to  the  familiar  landing,  and  Jasper 
and  Oscar  saw  the  little  out-door  comforts  of  their  sum 
mer  bathing-place  unmolested  by  the  marauding  Norse 
men,  nomads  of  the  shore. 

"  Here  he  will  be  perfectly  happy,"  said  Jasper,  as 
he  made  the  boat  fast. 

"  Perfectly  happy  he  has  been  for  an  hour  past,"  said 
Bertha,  smiling.  Then  she  and  Jasper  together  made 
a  throne,  which  was  a  sort  of  bed  of  justice  for 
the  boy,  on  the  shady  side  of  the  little  shanty.  There 
was  enough  diy,  sweet  hay  to  give  it  substance ; 
there  were  wraps  enough  in  the  boat  to  cover  it,  had  it 
been  for  five  boys.  And  then  Jasper,  in  triumph,  took 
his  man  Friday  in  his  arms,  carried  him  across  the 
gravel,  and  enthroned  him. 

"  Now  you  are  king,"  said  Bertha,  "  and  you  must 
tell  us  what  to  do.  I  will  not  give  }'ou  any  orders  till 
we  are  back  again  at  the  hospital,  if  you  are  only  good, 
and  do  what  I  choose  without  being  ordered." 

And  she  laughed.  Oscar  laughed  too.  "  I  will 
order  you  by-by,"  said  he.  "  Now  I  only  order  both 
of  you  rest  you"!  He  rest  because  he  rowed.  You  rest 
because  }Wsit  up  so  stiff,  hold  fan,  hold  rudder.  Os 
car  rest  too."  And  almost  as  he  spoke,  his  head 
dropped,  with  his  bright  smile  on  his  lips,  back  on  the 
pillow  she  bad  placed  against  the  door-post,  and  in  a 
minute  the  dear  fellow  was  sweetly  asleep  :  the  excite 
ment  of  the  little  voyage  had  so  far  told  on  him.  Ber 
tha  threw  the  light  shawl  she  had  over  him,  and  turned 
to  Jasper. 

"  What  a  blessing  to  be  able  to  give  him  this  air- 
bath  I  I  mean  to  be  a  nurse  or  a  doctor  all  my  life, 
and  to  found  a  hospital  on  the  basis  of  the  open  air. 
We  will  call  it  the  air-cure." 


THE  HEA  YEN  ON  THE  EA%T&  J  187 

_  _'£»! 

"  What  a  mercy  and  blessing,"  said 
health,  especially  after  what  you  and  I  have  seenT 
believe  it  has  all  been  meant  for  a  lesson  to  me.  Do 
you  know,  my  uncle  alwaj's  said  I  was  hard  on  sick 
people  ?  He  said  I  was  very  tolerant  to  bad  people. 
If  a  drunken  dog  killed  one  of  his  cows,  or  smashed  a 
horse-rake,  I  alwa3's  had  an  excuse  for  him,  he  said. 
It  was  the  man's  first  offence,  or  he  had  temptations  we 
did  not  know  of.  And  he  said  I  was  very  lenient  to 
fools  and  blunderers.  I  always  said  God  made  them 
so,  and  that  they  must  distress  themselves  much  more 
than  they  did  us.  But  when  any  of  the  workmen  said 
he  could  not  stand  the  day  out  in  mowing,  or  sent  word 
that  he  had  the  shakes  and  could  not  come  to  the  lum 
ber-yard,  I  had  no  mercy  on  him,  my  uncle  said.  It 
was  not  quite  true,  but  I  am  afraid  there  was  some 
thing  in  it.  I  have  never  been  sick  one  minute  in  life, 
and  I  do  hate  a  shirk." 

"Then  you  are  hard,  Mr.  Rising,"  said  Bertha 
bravely,  her  spirit  rebelling  as  Jasper  thus  intimated 
that  people  could  like  to  be  sick,  or  could  shirk  from  the 
love  of  shirking.  "You  are  hard,  and  you  must  take 
your  poor  Oscar  for  your  tutor.  Oh,  dear  !  I  have  seen 
men  as  strong  as  he,  and  as  strong  as  JTOU,  who  would 
have  given,  —  what  would  they  not  have  given  for  one 
week  of  life  unembittered  ?  and  they  could  not  buy  it. 
Oh,  no !  you  must  thank  God  for  what  you  have,  and 
be  all  the  kinder  to  the  rest  of  us." 

And,  as  she  spoke,  Jasper  registered  his  vow,  that, 
so  far  at  least,  he  would  obey  her.  He  was  a  little 
confused;  but  he  rallied  enough  to  say,  "Why  do  we 
not  enjoy  more,  wrhen  God  gives  us  everything  to  en 
joy?  To  sit  here,  as  I  sit  now,  in  perfect  health,  yes, 
and  perfect  happiness  ;  even  to  feel  this  air  moving  on 
my  skin,  to  see  that  white  cloud  round  its  surfaces  so 
lazily  on  that  perfect  blue,  to  smell  these  roses  and 
this  haj^,  as  the  wind  draws  over  us,  whjT,"  —  and  he 
laughed  when  he  said  it,  —  "to  have  my  mouth  taste 
sweet,  and  to  know  I  should  drink  a  glass  of  water  if 


188  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

I 

you  gave  it  to  me,  yet  not  to  be  thirsty  ;  that  I  should 
eat  a  cracker  if  it  lay  here,  yet  not  to  be  hungry  ;  not 
to  be  sleepy,  but  to  know  I  could  sleep  in  two  seconds 
if  I  lay  down,  as  that  boy  does  ;  and  while  I  am  talk 
ing  to  you,  and  while  I  am  smelling  the  roses,  and 
seeing  the  sky,  and  feeling  the  breeze,  to  be  hearing 
this  brown  thrush  whistle,  —  to  know  all  along  that  if 
need  were  I  could  walk  thirty  miles  before  midnight, 
and  yet  to  know  that  no  need  does  call,  —  is  it  not 
glonr  enough  and  blessing  enough  to  live?  Yet  we 
choose  not  to  think  so.  As  poor  Oliver  did,  we  are 
asking  for  something  more." 

Jasper  was  stimulated  to  say  all  this  because  he  was 
perfectly  happy.  Perhaps  the  last  and  sweetest  point 
to  his  happiness  had  been  that  Bertha  had  found  fault 
with  him.  It  is  an  exquisite  thing  to  be  blamed  or 
criticised  by  one  3*011  believe  in,  or  love,  if  the  criticism 
seem  to  reveal  a  degree  of  interest  in  you  that  you  have 
not  been  certain  of  before.  He  was  a  little  startled, 
however,  when  he  found  he  had  said  so  much.  It  was 
not  the  least  in  his  fashion  to  do  so.  And  he  even  ran 
back  over  his  rhapsody,  afraid  that  he  had  made  a  fool 
of  himself.  But  Bertha  said,  and  he  had  never  known 
her  find  so  much  trouble  with  her  English,  — 

"I  think,  —  I  do  not  know,  —  I  shall  not  make  nry- 
self  clear.  I  think  we  do  not  more  often  take  these 
delights  as  we  do  now,  —  I  am  sure  I  do  just  as  you  do, 
bat  not  always,  not  often  perhaps,  —  because  we  want 
to  know  how  we  can  make  others  share  in  them.  You 
and  I,  to-da}',  know  it  was  for  him  we  planned  them ; 
not  for  us.  It  would  not  have  been  nice  to  you,  to 
bring  up  the  pillows  alone,  and  make  the  throne  alone, 
and  go  to  sleep  on  it  alone.  You  and  I  have  done  our 
work.  I  do  not  mean  that  we  have  earned  our  play. 
I  hate  all  that  earning.  It  is  so  dirty,  so  mean,  I 
mean.  Oh  !  I  wish  I  could  speak  English.  Should 
you  know,  should  you  understand  if  I  spoke  German? 
This  is  what  I  mean  :  this  must  all  happen,  it  must  not 
be  made  on  purpose." 


THE  HEAVEN  ON  THE  EARTH.  189 

"  The  good  Father  must  give  it  to  us,  and  we  must 
not  try  to  cut  it  and  shape  it  for  ourselves,"  said  Jas 
per  reverently. 

"  Yes :  that  is  it,"  said  Bertha,  and  this  time  she 
spoke  in  German ;  and  she  was  silent  then,  and  her 
eyes  filled  with  tears. 

Filled  with  tears  ;  and  she  enjoyed  the  exquisite  sat 
isfaction  which  a  true  woman  or  a  true  man  feels,  when 
another  true  woman  or  true  man  bravely  breaks  the 
spell  which  in  matters  sacred  keeps  us  parted  from  each 
other.  No  wonder,  indeed,  that  we  will  not  scatter  the 
precious  pearls  of  life  broadcast.  No  !  And  therefore, 
when  reticent  man  or  reticent  woman  ventures  to  speak 
to  3'ou  on  the  thing  most  precious,  you  are  sure  that 
that  man  or  that  woman  holds  you  and  prizes  you 
among  the  sacred  few  ! 

And  so  the  hour  passed  by.  Sometimes  they  talked, 
but  now  as  if  they  had  known  each  other  from  the  be 
ginning  of  eternity.  Sometimes  they  sat  silent.  That 
was  because  they  were  perfectly  sure,  each,  that  silence 
was  better  than  speech,  then,  —  each  that  the  other  un 
derstood  that  silence  was  better  than  speech ;  so  that 
silence  was,  as  it  is  so  often,  the  best  communion.  At 
last  Oscar  turned  and  started. 

"Have  I  been  asleep?"  said  he.  "What  a  lazy 
man  Friday !  But  I  have  had  a  beautiful  nap,"  he 
cried,  sitting  up  and  rubbing  his  eyes.  "  Ah,  yes  :  all 
will  be  well  now." 

The}'  laughed  with  him  and  at  him,  and  with  each 
other  and  at  each  other.  Jasper  laughed  and  talked 
with  the  abandon  of  one  who  had  been  living  through 
the  very  happiest  hour  of  his  life,  and  knew  he  had. 
This  I  know,  for  he  told  me  so.  Bertha  has  never  told 
me  so ;  but,  all  the  same,  I  believe  she  had  the  same 
consciousness  at  heart.  Jasper  took  his  boy  lightly, 
and  carried  him  to  the  boat  again.  Oscar  declared  he 
could  do  anything,  and  was  permitted  to  do  nothing. 
Again  he  lay '  in  the  stern ;  again  Bertha  fanned  him 
and  screened  him  ;  again  Jasper  pulled  both  oars,  and 


190  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

slowly,  but  only  too  fast,  they  came  back,  oh,  how 
happy,  all  of  them,  to  the  musty,  fusty,  ungainly  old 
sail-loft,  which  was  to  all  of  them,  now,  the  happiest, 
noblest,  and  sweetest  of  homes. 


A  CARD  CASTLE.  191 


A   CARD    CASTLE. 

THAT  night  Jasper  thought  over  everything.  He 
did  not  sleep  a  wink,  not  he.  How  clear,  right 
through,  the  hand  of  Providence  ;  and  that  Providence 
so  kind,  which  had  brought  him  and  this  queen  of  his 
life  together,  this  woman  of  all  women,  this  pure,  true, 
brave,  lovely  girl.  And  how  false  to  himself,  and  to 
her,  and  to  the  good  God,  if  he  did  not  tell  her  this ; 
tell  her  that  his  life  would  be  wretchedness  without  her, 
but  that  with  her  there  was  nothing  he  could  not  dare, 
nay,  nothing  that  he  could  not  do.  Did  she  care  for 
him  ?  He  did  not  know  ;  but  it  would  be  easy  to  find 
out.  Did  she  care  for  any  one  else  ?  He  did  not  know ; 
only  if  she  did  he  should  die.  This  was  sure,  he  was 
man  enough  to  take  care  of  her  her  life  through,  to 
screen  her  from  every  storm,  to  lift  her  when  she  needed 
lifting,  to  comfort  her  when  she  was  troubled,  and  to 
love  her  always.  Nay,  his  life,  and  what  people  called 
his  fortunes,  were  enough  established  for  him  to  offer 
her  a  home.  It  should  be  —  he  knew  were  it  should 
be  —  on  a  lovely  piece  of  land  Dundas  owned,  just 
above  the  boat-house.  Oh,  what  a  home  it  should  be, 
if  she  could  only  think  that  such  loyalty  and  devotion 
as  he  could  offer  her  made  life  with  him  worth  living ! 
Would  she  think  so  ? 

Well,  he  could  see. 

Jasper  was  no  such  mean  tradesman,  that  he  would 
offer  nothing  unless  he  was  sure  of  everything.  He 
would  not  disgrace  himself  in  his  own  eyes  b}^  dawd 
ling  and  waiting,  trying  to  surprise  Bertha  by  this  trick 
or  that  innuendo,  into  an  avowal  he  was  not  man 


192  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

enough  to  ask  for.  She  might  know,  all  the  world 
might  know  if  it  chose,  that  with  his  heart  of  hearts 
he  loved  her.  Then  if  she  could  give  him  nothing 
back,  why,  that  was  his  misfortune.  None  the  less 
should  she  have  a  woman's  right  to  say  yes  or  no ;  and 
she  should  have  the  fair  honor,  in  her  own  memory 
afterwards,  to  know  that  she  herself,  in  her  own  loveli 
ness  and  truth  and  purity,  commanded  the  allegiance 
and  reverence  of  this  one  honest  man.  He  would  tell 
her  so. 

He  would  tell  her  so  that  very  afternoon.  They 
could  take  Oscar  to  the  bathing-house  again.  They 
could  sit  in  the  shade  again.  And  there,  in  the  sinking 
of  the  afternoon  sun,  he  would  tell  her  the  whole  of 
his  life  and  of  his  hope;  and  there  she  might  say 
whether  he  was  to  be  a  prince  among  men,  or  whether 
his  whole  life  was  a  blunder,  and  was  to  be  thrown 
away. 

All  this  Jasper  determined. 

The  first  place  where  he  saw  Bertha  in  the  hospital  day, 
was  always  the  mess-table  of  the  nurses.  The  moment 
jie  saw  her,  he  saw  she  was  pale,  and  that  she  seemed 
excited.  Had  she  slept  no  better  than  he  ?  She  said 
not  a  word  at  breakfast,  she  who  was  generally  the  life 
of  their  little  circle.  After  breakfast,  even  before  they 
had  their  orders  from  the  doctor,  she  called  him.  Could 
he  come  out  on  the  beach  ? 

"  See  here,  Mr.  Rising,"  as  soon  as  they  were  alone  ; 
"I  have  my  letter." 

"From  Mr.  Rosenstein?"  For  no  letter  from  that 
rascal  had  ever  come. 

"  Oh,  no  !  "  said  Bertha  ;  "  not  from  him,  nor  ever 
shall ;  but  from  my  mother.  See,  will  you  read  this 
page?" 

And  she  gave  it  to  him,  forgetting  that  it  was  in  the 
German  character  which  so  few  students  of  that  time 
in  this  country  read  easily.  Jasper  tried,  and  had  to 
say  : 

"  You  know  I  do  not  make  out  your  handsclnift 
well." 


A  CARD  CASTLE.  193 

"  Oh  !  I  forgot ;  but  it  seemed  as  if  I  could  not  read 
it.  I  am  so  foolish.  It  is  all  so  strange.  I  wish 
things  would  not  happen.  But  I  am  not  quite  a  fool ; " 
and,  sitting  on  a  low  post,  as  Jasper  stood  beside  her, 
she  read : 

"  I  had  sealed  the  letter,  when  your  father  came  in. 
What  do  you  think  has  happened?  He  had  letters 
from  every  one,  from  your  Uncle  Fritz,  from  the  pastor, 
from  Marie  and  Ernestine,  oh,  so  many  letters  !  Bertha, 
my  child,  3*our  Uncle  Wilhelm,  who  was  lost,  long, 
long  ago,  has  been  found ;  or  rather,  he  has  died,  so 
we  know  where  he  was  lost.  It  was  in  Singapore,  my 
dear  Bertha  ;  he  was  very,  very  rich.  The  pastor  says, 
to  whom  the  Indian  letter  came,  that  his  fortune  was 
six  hundred  thousand  dollars ;  and  he  made  a  will, 
which  is  in  the  English  courts,  and  your  father  is  the 
heir.  The  pastor  writes,  and  Uncle  Fritz  writes,  that 
we  must  all  go  home.  I  do  not  know,  but  you  must 
come  here  as  soon  as  3^011  can :  3~our  father  encloses 
twenty  dollars,  as  I  said  before.  I  hope  it  is  enough 
for  3*ou,  for  none  of  the  six  hundred  thousand  has 
come.  Alwa3rs  3*our  poor  old  mother." 

Bertha's  face  wras  running  tears,  —  tears  of  clear  ex 
citement.  "Do  you  wonder  I  am  a  fool?"  said  she. 
"  I  ought  to  be  so  glad,  and  I  believe  I  am  not  glad  at 
all." 

Jasper  knew  some  one  else  who  was  not  glad  at  all. 
But  he  gulped  down,  —  why  did  he  gulp  down?  —  the 
words  with  which  he  almost  said  so.  With  determined 
effort  he  said  slowly,  instead  : 

"  But  you  will  be  glad.  This  is  everything  to  your 
mother,  eve^-thing  to  Wil.,  everything  to  your  father. 
God  grant  it  be  ever3'thing  to  3rou  !  " 

But  with  that  cold  blast,  his  own  card  castle  fell. 
13 


194  UPS  AND  DOWN& 


CHAPTEK    XX. 

PROVING   IDENTITY. 

JASPER'S  card-castle  fell. 

It  was,  perhaps,  his  own  fault  that  it  fell.  If 
Bertha  Schwarz  was  what  he  felt,  believed,  and  knew  by 
the  highest  knowledge,  that  she  was,  the  mere  accident 
that  her  father  had  inherited  six  hundred  thousand  dol 
lars  had  nothing  whatever  to  do  with  Jasper's  relations 
to  her,  nor  with  what  Jasper  was  going  to  say  to  her. 
If  she  were  not  that  Bertha  Schwarz  that  he  believed  and 
knew  her  to  be,  the  sooner  he  found  out  his  mistake 
about  her  the  better,  no  matter  how  hard  the  process 
which  undeceived  him.  In  sad  and  lonely  days  which 
followed,  Jasper  had  time  enough  to  think  out  and  set 
in  order  this  alternative  ;  but  he  did  not  think  it  out  in 
time.  He  did  not  say,  when  Bertha  translated  to  him 
her  letter,  "  Dear  Miss  Schwarz,  that  is  a  matter  of 
very  little  consequence  compared  with  what  I  have  to 
say.  Will  you  come  and  walk  on  the  pier  with  me  ?  " 
That  would  have  been  the  truth ;  but  Jasper  did  not 
say  so. 

At  this  moment,  indeed,  he  made  one  of  the  great 
mistakes  in  his  life  by  keeping  silence.  And  as  he 
thought  of  it  afterwards,  and  repented  of  it  bitterly,  he 
was  afraid  that  it  was  a  mistake  which  came  from  read 
ing  artificial  novels,  and  seeing  artificial  plays  ;  for  he 
had  done  just  as  the  paper  hero  has  to  do.  He  had  re 
frained  from  telling  Bertha  how  he  loved  her,  from  the 
stupid  fear  that  she  would  think  lie  was  mercenary  and 
mean.  Now,  if  he  had  been  mercenary  and  mean,  this 
would  ha<ye  been  a  sign  of  his  better  nature,  that  he 
was  afraid  of  being  thought  so  ;  but  as  he  was  not,  as 


PROVING  IDENTITY.  195 

there  was  nothing  mean  in  his  enthusiastic  love  of  this 
womanly  girl,  why,  he  had  simply  acted  very  foolishly 
in  permitting  the  death  of  an  old  man  in  Singapore,  or 
its  neighborhood,  to  have  anything  to  do  with  what  he 
said  to  her  in  Detroit,  or  anywhere. 

Let  the  American  boy  or  girl  remember  that  it  is  not 
safe  to  take  the  illustrations  in  English  or  French  nov 
els  for  the  guidance  of  our  simple  American  life. 

For  Bertha,  dear  child,  let  us  not  ask  her  how  she 
felt  all  that  day,  or  how  she  explained  Jasper's  absence 
of  mind,  only  relieved  by  his  eager  care  for  her  comfort 
on  her  lonely  journey  home.  The  hurried  preparations 
were  made  at  last.  Jasper  succeeded  in  making  the 
heiress  borrow  from  him  twenty-five  dollars  more,  lest 
she  should  be  stranded  penniless  again  on  her  journey 
to  Boston;  and  poor  Bertha  started,  all  "sole-alone" 
again,  on  a  long  bit  of  travel,  far  more  fatiguing,  not 
to  say  adventurous,  than  it  is  now. 

Arrived  at  home,  she  found  everything  in  excite 
ment  ;  and,  aside  from  the  enthusiasm  that  welcomed 
her,  eveiybody  in  the  little  house  probably  felt  some 
satisfaction,  that,  in  their  counsels,  there  would  now  be 
somebody  with  a  head  as  clear  as  Bertha's  and  a  hand 
as  firm  as  hers.  Little  enough  experience  had  she, 
poor  child !  but  she  was  not  dreamy  and  wholly  un 
practical,  as  her  father  was ;  she  was  not  so  wholly 
domestic  as  to  be  afraid  of  the  sea,  afraid  of  travel, 
afraid  of  speaking  above  her  breath,  as  her  dear  mother 
was.  If  there  were  a  letter  to  be  written,  Bertha  knew 
how  to  "  face  her  perplexity,"  so  far  as  to  write  it ; 
and,  if  there  were  a  vice-consul  to  be  seen,  Bertha  knew 
that  the  best  way  to  get  him  out  of  the  way  was  to 
see  him.  Such  knowledge  as  this,  dear  Lily,  and  the 
prompt  acting  on  such  knowledge,  is  what  gives  power 
and  character  to  what  is  called  the  man  or  woman  of 
business  ;  and  it  was,  undoubtedly,  an  advantage  that 
a  person  appeared  in  the  household  who  had  such  hab 
its  of  meeting  the  daily  perplexities  of  preparing  for  a 
voyage,  even  though  that  person  were  an  inexperienced 
girl,  only  eighteen  }*ears  old. 


196  UPS  AND  DOWN'S. 

Aunt  Mary  had  been  summoned  on  from  Orange,  and 
Bertha  found  her  doing  her  best  as  main-spring  and 
balance-wheel  together  ;  a  combination  which  in  human 
affairs  is  not  infrequent.  Aunt  Mary  was  pacifying 
and  encouraging,  proving  that  this  was  possible,  and 
that  was  impossible,  as  might  be  necessary  in  the 
strange  new  coin  plications.  Kaufmann  Baum  had  not 
been  able  to  come  on,  —  "busiest  season  of  the  year," 
he  said  unconsciously ;  not  knowing  that  he  had  said 
the  same  of  every  season  of  the  year  since  his  sister 
lived  in  Boston :  but  he  had  acted  on  a  general  prin 
ciple  which  had  never  failed  him  in  life  ;  nor,  in  my  ex 
perience  of  a  half-century,  have  I  ever  known  it  fail 
anybody.  Reduced  to  practice,  it  amounts  to  this: 
that,  if  you  cannot  in  person  discharge  a  duty,  rthcre 
are  few  exigencies  which  a  "draft  on  New  York" 
will  not  fill,  if  it  only  be  sufficiently  large.  Kaufmann 
Baum  had  implicit  confidence  in  his  wife  ;  so  he  sent 
her  to  get  his  brother-in-law  off  to  Hamburg :  he  had 
confidence  almost  implicit  in  a  "  draft  on  New  York ; " 
so  he  gave  her  a  draft  for  a  thousand  dollars,  with  di 
rections  to  use  it  according  to  her  discretion.  Nor  was 
his  confidence  in  either  instrumentality  a  misplaced 
one.  Aunt  Mary  appeared  on  the  scene  with  all  the 
Vermont  ability  to  put  things  through ;  and  the  prep 
arations  for  Mr.  Schwarz's  voyage  to  Hamburg  were 
well  forward  when  Bertha  reached  the  little  home. 

Queer  enough  it  was  to  Bertha  to  find  how  narrow 
and  how  crooked  the  streets  in  Boston  seemed  to  her, 
after  her  experience  of  Detroit  and  Milwaukie  ;  but  in 
a  minute  more,  when  the  carriage  stopped  at  the  little 
house,  sixteen  feet  in  front  at  the  outside,  and  when 
Bertha  surprised  them  all  so  happily  in  the  narrow  pas- 
Sagc5  —  for  they  had  not  expected  her  before  Saturday  ; 
and  when  she  kissed  them  all,  over  and  over  again  ; 
and  when  Aunt  Mary  then  slipped  out  and  (surprised 
IKM-  in  turn;  and  when  Bertha  was  fairly  sitting  on  a 
little  footstool  at  her  mother's  feet,  and  had  her  dear 
hand  in  hers,  —  she  w:is  the  happiest  girl  in  the  whole 
world  ;  and  she  felt  as  if  the  little,  crowded  parlor  was 


PROVING  IDENTITY.  197 

the  most  charming  place  in  the  whole  world.  It  was 
not  till  the  next  morning,  when  she  and  Rosebud  were 
setting  the  breakfast  table,  and  she  felt  how  dreadful ly 
crowded  eveiything  was,  and  how  close  that  hot  Sep 
tember  air  was,  —  it  was  not  till  then,  that,  with  an  over 
sensitive  conscientiousness,  Bertha  began  to  rebuke  her 
self  that  she  should  have  had  the  nice  large  rooms  of  the 
Rosenstein  house  in  Milwaukie,  while  her  dear  mother 
was  here,  confined  in  this  little  old  house  in  this  narrow 
street  in  the  very  heart  of  Boston.  Dear  Bertha,  was 
not  the  gorgeous  Rosenstein  palace  a  venr  hell  ?  and, 
as  you  rest  in  this  home  of  love  after  all  your  loneli 
ness,  is  it  not  a  veiy  heaven  ? 

And  now  Aunt  Mary  gently  put  Bertha  at  the  fore. 
And  Bertha  saw  the  consuls  and  vice-consuls,  and  Ber 
tha  made  all  the  arrangements  for  the  winter's  house 
keeping,  and  Bertha  consulted  with  her  mother  whether 
they  should  or  should  not  move  to  better  surroundings. 
No :  Margaret  Schwarz  would  not  move.  She  had 
been  very  happy  in  the  little  house,  and  she  would  not 
leave  it  till  they  all  were  together  at  home  again.  You 
see,  it  had  been  settled  in  two  seconds,  —  settled  long 
before  Bertha  came  home,  —  that  she  must  go  to  Ham 
burg  with  her  father.  Dear,  dreamy,  unpretending  Max 
Schwarz,  —  how  would  he  ever  identify  himself,  or  sat 
isfy  notaries  or  prothonotaries  or  chancellors  or  other 
officials,  alone?  He  would  turn  back  with  the  pilot 
before  he  lost  sight  of  America,  if  he  ever  started  alone. 
Some  one  must  go  with  him  ;  and  of  course  that  some 
one  was  to  be  Bertha. 

So  Margaret  Schwarz,  with  Carl  and  Wilhelm,  now 
a  capable  half-Yankee  bo}^,  and  little  Rosebud,  were 
left  in  the  little  tenement,  to  work  out  their  own  salva 
tion,  while  Bertha  and  her  father  sailed  for  Liverpool. 
Comfortable  and  regular  packets  to  Hamburg  were  still 
unknown. 

Poor  Schwarz  himself  was  wretchedly  sea-sick.  Ber 
tha  escaped  more  easilv.  It  was  a  delicious  month, 
that  September ;  and  the  ship's  deck  was  so  steady, 
that  the  little  children  ran  their  locomotive  toys  back 


198  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

and  forth  across  the  deck  without  knowing  that  it 
trembled.  How  could  poor  papa  feel  the  motion  so 
much  when  there  was  so  little  to  feel !  Bertha  was  a 
little  lonely  without  him  at  first ;  but  she  found  to  her 
joy  in  the  cabin,  a  splendid  Broadwood  grand  piano,  in 
tune  much  better  than  sea-going  pianos  are  wont  to 
boast.  She  found  that  nobody  else  seemed  disposed  to 
use  this,  and  the  "gentlemanly  captain"  begged  her 
to  make  the  best  of  it.  Bertha  was  onl}T  too  glad  to  do 
so.  At  the  hospital,  of  course,  she  had  had  no  instru 
ment.  At  the  Rosensteins,  she  had  played  or  had  not 
played  as  the  whims  of  madame  dicated,  excepting  in 
the  occasional  intervals  when  Rosenstein  himself  was 
at  home.  To  sit  there  in  the  airy  saloon,  to  know  that 
she  worried  nobod}*,  to  open  her  little  travelling  reper 
toire  of  some  of  her  father's  favorites  and  her  own,  and 
hour  by  hour  to  call  into  companionship  her  dear  old 
Mozart  and  G luck,  —  this  was  luxuiy.  Or  sometimes 
it  would  be  a  theme  from  Bach,  and  often  and  often  it 
would  be  Beethoven  whom  she  summoned ;  sometimes 
Palestrina,  sometimes  Weber  or  Schubert ;  and,  best 
of  all,  and  choicest  of  all,  she  would  call  on  Mendels 
sohn.  It  was  one  companion  or  the  other  of  them,  as 
met  her  mood  the  best ;  and  this  was  all  absolute  joy 
to  Bertha.  Of  course,  she  did  not  often  play  there, 
unless  at  very  exceptional  hours,  without  a  little  audi 
ence  from  the  passengers.  But  Bertha  soon  satisfied 
herself,  first  of  all,  that  no  one  else  wanted  the  piano ; 
second,  that  she  bored  no  one ;  third,  that,  with  one 
exception,  there  was  not  one  person  in  this  audience 
who  knew  anything  of  music.  She  found  out  that  she 
really  had  it  in  her  power  to  give  them  pleasure  while 
sho  pleased  herself;  and  so,  having  put  herself  at  her 
ease,  she  made  the  saloon  her  home. 

Arc  you  disappointed  that  she  did  not  spend  the  time 
in  contemplating  the  immensity  of  the  ocean  ?  ^  liy, 
the  ocean,  from  a  steamer's  deck,  in  a  calm  passage, 
seems  neither  immense  nor  sublime.  It  is  a  round 
waliT,  all  you  see  of  it,  of  a  dull  gray  color;  and  all 
you  can  work  up  of  emotion  about  it  is  indignation  that 


PROVING  IDENTITY.  199 

it  looks  so  small.  When  there  is  a  stiff  sea  running, 
go  forward  as  far  as  they  will  let  you  and  look  forward, 
and  you  may  have  a  better  chance.  For  Bertha,  she 
took  her  constitutional  walks  twice  or  thrice  a  day ; 
she  sat  a  good  deal  with  her  father  ;  but,  when  he  drove 
her  away,  she  summoned  her  companions  as  she  sat  at 
the  piano  in  the  saloon. 

The  one  person  who  knew  anything  about  music  was 
a  bright,  intelligent  English  physician,  a  young  man  of 
seven  and  twenty,  returning  with  his  mother,  who 
looked  delicate,  from  Toronto  to  her  home.  Their 
name  was  Farquhar.  From  the  first  day  that  Bertha 
found  her  way  to  the  piano  he  was  there  also,  unless 
some  particular  crisis  in  poor  Mrs.  Farquhar's  state 
room  kept  him  at  her  side  ;  and,  as  soon  as  Mrs.  Far 
quhar  rallied  sufficiently  from  her  sea-sickness,  the  doc 
tor  would  bring  her  into  the  saloon,  as  soon  as  the 
notes  of  the  piano  could  be  heard.  He  knew  enough 
to  know,  not  only  that  Bertha  played  good  music,  and 
played  it  well,  but  that  this  was  the  music  of  an  enthu 
siast,  who  had  the  divine  genius  whick  discovers  ge 
nius,  interprets  genius,  and  makes  genius  live  again, 
immortal,  indeed,  while  kindred  genius  is  its  inter 
preter.  It  was  not  long,  of  course,  before,  what  with 
turning  over  the  leaves  of  music,  what  with  bringing  up 
his  own  music  from  his  own  state-room,  what  with  Mrs. 
Farquhar's  asking  Bertha  to  play  this  or  that  to  her, 
the  free-masonry  of  music  had  made  good  friends  of  all 
three.  In  a  few  days  more,  poor  Mr.  Schwarz  was 
able  to  crawl  up  stairs.  Bertha  introduced  him  to  Dr. 
Farquhar,  and  he  to  his  mother.  Then  they  took  their 
constitutional  walks  together  up  and  down  the  deck, 
fifty-six  turns  to  the  mile,  and  four  miles  every  da}\ 
Mr.  Schwarz  even  tried  to  bring  his  violin  into  the 
saloon  ;  but  that  was  quite  too  much  for  his  poor,  weak 
head,  and  he  gave  it  up.  But  all  this  ocean  business 
was  an  old  story  to  the  doctor.  He  had  no  swimming 
head,  and,  at  the  suggestion  of  the  violin,  he  produced 
his  flute  ;  and  Mr.  Schwarz  lay  on  one  sofa,  and  Mrs. 


200  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

Farquhar   on   another,   while  Bertha   and   the   doctor 
played  duets  together. 

The  society  of  these  cultivated  and  truly  charming 
people  made  the  voyage  very  short  to  Bertha ;  and 
they  all  were  very  intimate.  When  the  evenings  were 
chilly,  if  the  sky  was  clear,  the  brisk  evening  walk  with 
her  arm  in  her  father's,  Dr.  Farquhar  accompanying 
her  on  the  other  side,  was  thoroughly  satisfactory. 
He  had  served,  he  said,  —  she  did  not  then  know  in 
what  service,  —  in  all  parts  of  the  world.  There  was 
nowhere  he  had  not  been,  there  was  nothing  he  had  not 
read ;  na}T,  it  seemed  to  Bertha  that  there  was  hardly 
any  one  he  had  not  seen.  She  was  in  the  first  enthusi 
asm  for  Tennyson.  Dr.  Farquhar  knew  the  poems  by 
heart ;  could  and  did  repeat  "  Locksley  Hall "  from  end 
to  end  ;  and  when,  one  da}T,  Bertha  expressed  some  curi- 
osit}-  about  Tennyson's  personal  appearance,  he  answered 
the  question.  Not  that  he  knew  him,  but  he  had  seen 
him  once  and  again  at  Cambridge,  when,  as  it  happened, 
each  of  them  was  on  a  visit  there.  All  young  America 
was  then  enthusiastic  about  Queen  Victoria :  the  cor 
onation  of  a  girl  of  eighteen,  so  few  years  before,  had 
been  too  romantic  an  incident,  and  her  bearing  had 
been  too  sweet  and  noble  not  to  create  enthusiasm, 
particularly  among  the  young.  Well,  Dr.  Farquhar 
did  not  pretend  to  have  been  presented  at  court,  or  to 
have  thrown  his  cloak  over  a  muddy  hole  for  the  queen 
to  walk  on  ;  but,  as  it  happened,  in  his  boyhood  he  had 
lived  in  the  Isle  of  Wight,  near  the  home  of  the  prin 
cess  and  her  mother  ;  he  had  seen  her  riding  to  and  fro 
on  her  donkey,  when  she  was  a  girl ;  he  had  once  or 
twice  been  at  children's  parties,  where  multitudes  of 
the  neighbors'  children  had  been  summoned  to  meet 
her ;  and  in  a  pleasant  way  he  told  boy  anecdotes  of 
her  girlhood,  as,  through  such  key -holes,  he. .  had  seen 
it.  Little  glimpses  are  such  things  of  a  great  world ; 
but  to  Bertha  it  was  the  beginning  of  one  of  the  great 
luxuries  of  life,  —  the  making  real  in  imagination  what 
has  been  only  a  matter  of  books  and  record.  Of 
course,  their  musical  enthusiasm  swept  all  three  away 


PROVING  IDENTITY.  201 

in  such  talking  and  walking.  Dr.  Farquhar  was  the 
only  one  of  the  three  who  had  seen  Mendelssohn,  whom 
they  all  three  so  loved.  He  had  once  heard  him  play. 
He  had  been  at  the  grand  opera  in  almost  every  city 
of  Europe  ;  and  had  a  faculty  of  making  them  see  with 
his  eyes,  if  he  could  not  make  them  hear  with  his  ears, 
as  he  described  the  enthusiasm  which  welcomed  one 
and  another  master  or  prima  donna  of  the  time.  A 
lo}'al,  true-hearted  gentleman,  of  the  best  training 
England  could  give,  of  an  experience  which  had  taken 
him  into  every  quarter  of  the  globe,  modest  and  manly, 
he  had  everything  1  o  tell  which  should  interest  a  girl 
like  Bertha,  standing  just  on  the  edge  of  the  world, 
wondering  as  to  its  mysteries,  and  knowing  it,  as  }Tet, 
only  from  books,  and  so  little  from  men  and  women. 

Nor  did  Max  Schwarz  make  any  contemptible  ap 
pearance  in  this  trio,  when  it  was  atrio,orin  the  quartette, 
when  it  became  a  quartette.  He  was  a  great  reader,  as 
well  as  a  musician  to  fanaticism.  His  criticism  in  music 
was  snch  as  a  man  like  Farquhar  respected  through  and 
through.  Farquhar  saw  at  once  that  here  was  a  master, 
while  he  was  only  a  performer.  Yet  the  doctor  knew 
enough  of  music,  as  well  in  its  history  as  in  the  best 
performances  of  the  time,  to  appreciate  and  enjoy  his 
new  companion's  criticism  and  analysis  ;  and  Bertha 
would  be  proud  indeed  of  her  father,  when  the  word 
came  to  him,  as  they  walked,  and  he  either  ran  back  to 
show  the  worth  and  value  of  some  of  the  men  now  half- 
forgotten,  or  when  he  boldly  looked  forward  and  proph 
esied  the  steps  which  would  surely  come  ;  which,  as  he 
said,  the  world  was  ready  for ;  that  step  which  in 
twenty  years  more  has  been  taken  so  firmly,  —  so  that 
we  talk  as  simply  as  we  do  of  "  the  music  of  the  future." 
Bertha  hardly  knew  whether  she  enjoyed  the  talk  most 
when  Dr.  Farquhar  lectured  to  her,  as  he  would  say, 
or  when  her  father  lectured  to  him  ;  but  Dr.  Farquhar 
knew  perfectly  well  that  he  enjo3*ed  it  most,  when,  by 
guile  which  she  did  not  suspect,  he  had  won  Bertha 
herself  round  to  talking.  One  day,  by  a  turn  in  the 
talk,  she  found  herself  describing  her  strange  hospital 


202  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

adventure  to  Mrs.  Farquhar  ;  one  day  it  was  the  curious 
Norwegian  emigration  in  Wisconsin,  which  she  was  tell 
ing  him  about ;  one  day  she  made  them  all  scream  as 
she  described  her  infant  class  in  the  Sunda}--school  at 
Milwaukie,  —  one  Swedish  girl,  one  Norwegian,  one 
French,  one  Low  German,  one  High,  and  one  Irish  boy. 
Whatever  the  subject  was,  Dr.  Farquhar,  and,  for  that 
matter,  Mrs.  Farquhar,  was  equally  pleased.  Dear, 
unconscious  Bertha  !  When  they  did  tempt  her  to  tell 
of  her  little  experiences,  which  seemed  to  her  so  small 
in  comparison  with  the  talk  about  queens  and  poets  and 
masters,  she  was  so  full  of  life  and  humor,  she  was  so 
unaffected  and  brave,  she  showed  her  true  self,  without 
knowing  that  she  showed  herself,  so  complete!}',  that 
Dr.  Farquhar  and  his  mother  were  both  charmed  with 
her.  To  Mrs.  Farquhar,  an  invalid  who  hated  to  be 
an  invalid,  there  was  a  particular  comfort  in  Bertha's 
friendly  and  even  tender  little  cares,  after  they  became 
so  intimate  that  she  could  offer  them. 

So  it  was,  that,  by  the  time  they  landed  in  England, 
England  was  by  no  means  the  country  of  strangers 
Bertha  and  her  father  had  feared  it  would  be.  Had 
they  not  these  two  loyal  friends  here?  Bertha  had  no 
more  care  of  her  father,  nor  he  of  her,  in  landing,  than 
if  they  had  had  a  suite  of  forty  couriers.  Dr.  Far 
quhar,  without  any  fuss,  provided  for  everything ;  and 
they  all  went  together  to  the  London  train.  Arrived 
in  London,  Mrs.  Farquhar  made  a  thousand  apologies 
that  she  could  jiot  take  them  to  her  house,  poor  Bertha 
feeling  all  the  time  that  she  should  be  frightened  to 
death  if  they  went  there  ;  but  the  doctor  arranged  still, 
as  if  Max  Schwarz  had  been  his  father,  and  took  them 
to  very  comfortable  lodgings,  where,  in  this  dead  season, 
they  found  rooms,  as  he  knew  11  icy  would,  with  a  friend 
of  his,  a  nice  Scotch  widow,  where,  for  their  stay  in 
London,  they  would  be  made  quite  at  home.  Then  he 
parted  from"  them,  renewing  the  promises  which  his 
mother  had  made  at  the  station,  that  they  would  both 
Come  round  the  next  day. 

For  Bertha  and  her  father  had  no  little  business  to 


PROVING  IDENTITY.  203 

do  in  London.  It  had  been  explained  in  the  letters 
from  Singapore  that  the  public  administrator  at  that 
place,  an  officer  appointed  by  the  English  government, 
was  the  person  with  whom  the  correspondence  about 
Bertha's  uncle  must  eventually  be  conducted.  The 
verifications  of  personality  would  be  more  simply  made 
if  English  magistrates  had  a  hand  in  it ;  and  the  law 
yers  consulted,  both  in  Hamburg  and  in  Boston,  had 
advised  a  stay  in  London  long  enough  to  make  the 
proper  depositions  there,  and,  if  necessaiy,  to  place 
the  whole  matter  in  the  hands  of  English  counsel.  For 
Max  Schwarz  was  resolute  in  refusing  to  go  to  Singa 
pore,  even  for  forty  fortunes  ;  and  Bertha  was  sure  that 
no  sort  of  result  would  follow  his  going,  even  if  he  as 
sented  to  so  vast  an  enterprise.  So  father  and  daughter 
had  been  fortified,  with  letters  of  introduction  to  the 
right  lawyers  and  men  of  business ;  and  Bertha,  when 
she  left  Boston,  had  pretended  to  be  very  brave  about 
all  she  had  to  do  in  the  great  city.  "  It  would  be  just 
like  a  novel,"  she  said.  At  heart,  she  was  frightened 
to  death  about  it  all ;  for  she  knew  very  well  how  little 
her  father  was  fitted  for  the  enterprise  in  hand :  but 
this  was  only  one  instance  more  of  the  courage  with 
which  she  "  faced  her  perplexities,"  to  borrow  for  the 
second  time  that  admirable  phrase  of  the  Bishop  of 
Burlington. 

But  now  !  Why,  going  to  bankers,  and  officers  of 
probates,  and  making  depositions,  was  all  easier  than 
going  a-ma}'ing,  or  stringing  lilac  necklaces.  Here 
was  Dr.  Farquhar  with  a  cab  every  morning.  Every 
visit  to  the  city  or  to  the  lawyers,  was  like  a  pleasant 
excursion  to  the  scene  of  something  in  Shakespeare  or 
Scott  or  Dickens  ;  and  the  banker  or  the  lawyer  or  the 
notary  came  in  almost  as  part  of  the  exhibition.  The 
doctor  prepared  himself  with  such  powerful  notes  of 
introduction,  or  was  so  respected  for  the  love  people 
had  for  his  father  or  his  uncle  or  his  grandfather,  that 
they  all  seemed,  Bertha  said,  passionately  determined 
to  bring  her  father's  money  in  their  own  arms  to  Bos 
ton.  Never  did  business  pass  so  pleasantly,  even 


204  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

though  the  days  were  more  than  she  expected  when  she 
came  to  London. 

And  the  afternoons  and  evenings  were  only  more 
charming.  Mrs.  Farquhar  taught  Bertha,  that  if  they 
had  been  the  people  of  fashion,  such  as  she  read  of  in 
novels,  they  would  all  sa}T  London  was  a  desert ;  but 
as  they  were  not  such  people  the  least  bit  in  the  world  ; 
as  they  lived  happily  in  "  the  wilds  of  Bloomsbury," 
not  two  blocks,  as  Bertha  found,  from  her  own  lodg 
ings, —  why  London  was  to  them  the  pleasant  home 
which  more  than  ten  years  had  now  endeared,  and 
which  she  had  left  only  two  years  since  that  "she  might 
join  her  son  in  Toronto,  for  the  period  in  which  he  was 
stationed  there.  It  seemed  his  father  had  died,  now 
nearly  three  years  gone  by.  Horace  had  now  resigned, 
and  was  going  to  establish  himself  in  practice  in  Lon 
don,  evidently  with  great  advantages ;  living,  so  hap 
pily  for  his  mother,  in  the  old  home,  which  was  now  so 
dear,  from  associations  of  pleasure  and  of  pain  alike. 
His  married  sisters  had  been  putting  the  house  in 
order  for  the  returning  wanderers  ;  and  Mrs.  Farquhar 
really  seemed  another  person  in  the  jo}*  of  her  return 
home.  For  the  afternoons  and  evenings,  then,  she  was 
ready  to  plan  all  the  possible  parties  of  pleasure,  and 
to  carry  them  out  with  energy  and  tact  that  were  as 
tonishing  for  one  so  frail.  There  was  an  excursion  to 
Hampton  Court,  managed  on  a  legal  holiday,  when  no 
banker  nor  notary  of  them  all  would  attend  to  any 
business,  Horace  said,  —  Hampton  Court,  which  to  the 
American  not  travel-spoiled  is  such  a  marvel :  there 
was  Windsor,  and  then  beautiful  visits  in  Kent,  within 
striking  distance.  But  Horace  and  his  mother  found, 
and  were  amazed  to  find,  —  what  they  would  have  found 
with  any  nice  American  girl,  —  that  to  Bertha,  while 
evciything  was  delightful,  London  and  its  revelations 
were  the  most  delightful  of  all.  They  found  that  she 
had  at  her  tongue's  end  questions  about  its  local  history 
that  the}T  had  never  thought  of.  She  stopped  to  see 
St.  Anne's,  and  went  out  of  her  way  to  find  St.  John's, 
that  she  might  tell  Rosebud  she  had  heard  all  the  bells 


PROVING  IDENTITY.  205 

that  rang  out  the  fate  of  "  London  Bridge ; "  she 
dragged  Mrs.  Farquhar  to  St.  Paul's  to  attend  service 
there  ;  and  on  the  other  Sunda}'  to  Westminster  Abbey  : 
two  feats  which,  as  Mrs.  Farquhar  told  her,  she  had 
never  performed  before.  Bertha  told  her  she  must  be 
grateful  that  she  did  not  propose  to  go  upon  the  mon 
ument.  Never  was  a  visitor  more  delighted,  and  never 
were  hosts  more  thoughful  and  hospitable. 

But  it  had  to  come  to  an  end.  Max  Schwarz  was  at 
last  completely  identified,  and  the  last  power  of  attorney 
was  signed,  and  every  document  that  could  be  thought 
of,  which  could  supply  the  place  of  personal  presence, 
was  sealed  and  delivered.  The  last  day  came.  They 
were  to  take  the  packet  for  Hamburg  the  very  next  day. 
Horace  engaged  their  passages  in  advance,  and  came 
in  triumph  with  some  magnificent  bunches  of  black 
Hamburg  grapes,  which  the  boat  had  brought  over  in 
her  last  passage,  when  he  came  to  give  them  the  num 
ber  of  their  state-rooms.  "These  are  the  first  fruits," 
he  said,  as  he  gave  them  to  Bertha. 

Then  Bertha  asked  him  if  he  would  do  her  one  last 
favor.  To  tell  the  truth,  she  asked  it  in  too  bungling 
a  way  only  because  they  had  been  loading  her  so  with 
favors,  and  she  and  her  father  had  taken  so  much  of 
Dr.  Farquhar's  time,  that  it  seemed  graceless  to  ask 
for  more  ;  but,  in  rather  a  bungling  way,  she  explained, 
that,  as  it  happened,  she  had  not  seen  any  good  book 
seller's  :  she  said  "  book-store."  She  had  tried  once 
or  twice  with  her  father,  but  was  sure  they  had  not 
gone  to  the  right  place.  "  Now,  what  I  want,  Dr. 
Farquhar,  is  this  :  I  want,  while  I  am  here,  to  buy  some 
really  pleasant  books  for  that  nice  girl  I  told  you  of, 
who  kept  the  lonely  school  on  the  Manito  Island.  It 
will  please  her  to  know  that  I  remembered  her  as  much 
as  it  pleases  me  to  remember  her  here.  And,  if  you 
will  go  with  me  to  the  right  place,  I  shall  be  ever  so 
much  obliged  to  you." 

Horace  was  delighted,  really  delighted,  at  a  proposal 
of  something  where  he  could  be  of  real  service,  and 
connect  himself  with  one  of  her  personal  plans  or  fan- 


206  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

cies.  All  the  more  was  he  pleased,  when,  rather  blun 
dering  again,  Bertha  asked  him  if  he  were  willing  to 
look  at  her  list.  He  could  certainly  help  her  about 
editions  of  which  she  knew  nothing.  Would  he  also 
help  her  b}T  adding  anything  that  she  had  not  thought 
of,  because  she  did  not  know  enough?  This  was  only 
a  hurried  list  that  she  had  made  all  herself.  Aunt 
Mary  had  promised  to  help  her ;  but,  at  the  last  mo 
ment,  there  had  been  no  time. 

Well,  it  was  a  queer  list :  probably  not  so  bad  a  one, 
after  all ;  for,  as  one  young  girl  made  it  for  another, 
she  had  some  method  of  judging  which  the  wisest  pro 
fessor  of  them  all  would  not  have  had.  There  was 
more  poetry  than  prose  ;  beside  the  more  familiar  Eng 
lish  poets,  there  were  Faber's  poems,  of  which  Bertha 
was  very  fond,  and  Montgomery's  hymns  ;  and  she  did 
not  know  that  she  could  not  bivy  Jones  Very's  Sonnets 
in  London,  so  she  had  put  that  down.  The  list  gave 
Horace  Farquhar  a  chance  to  tell  her  of  some  of  the 
books  which  had  been  most  to  him.  He  put  in  Jerenry 
Taylor  and  Thomas  a  Kempis.  He  asked  her  if  she 
did  not  know  Herbert's  poems  and  Vaughan's  ;  and 
found  these  were  new  to  her.  He  made  his  own  pres 
ent  to  the  Manito  school-mistress  in  a  copy  of  Owen 
Feltham,  all  full  of  his  own  pencil-marks  ;  and  so  they 
started  very  happily,  after  a  nice  talk  on  all  sorts  of 
books  and  authors,  for  a  book-shop  at  the  West  End. 

I  think  Horace  Farquhar  had  intrigued  a  little  that 
his  mother  should  not  accompany  them,  as  Bertha  had 
expected,  and  as  had  been  at  first  proposed.  There 
had  been  some  gallery  that  they  were  to  see  at  the 
same  time  ;  but,  at  the  last  moment,  he  brought  a  line 
from  Mrs.  Farquhar  saying  she  must  give  up  the  gal 
lery,  and  would  come  round  in  the  evening  to  say  good- 
b}*.  So  Bertha,  who  was  all  reacty  for  a  brisk  walk, 
was  just  starting  with  Horace  alone,  to  his  entire  satis 
faction,  when  her  father  roused  up  from  the  Hamburg 
newspaper  he  was  reading,  and  asked  if  it  would  trouble 
the  doctor  too  much  to  let  him  join  them,  and  show 
him  how  and  where  he  could  best  buy  some  little  pres- 


PROVING  IDENTITY.  207 

ents  he  wanted  to  take  over  to  Lauenburg  to  his  little 
cousins  there,  —  presents  which,  in  fact,  in  his  dreamy 
wa}',  he  had  till  this  moment  forgotten.  Horace  could 
only  assent,  of  course.  Never,  till  that  moment,  had 
Mr.  Schwarz  been  in  the  wajT.  How  impossible  it  was 
to  tell  him  he  was  in  the  wa}'  now  !  There  was  nothing 
for  it  but  to  make  the  best  of  the  unintentional  addition 
to  the  party.  How  Horace  wished  he  had  brought  his 
mother ! 

It  was  a  very  pleasant  expedition,  that  is  true, 
though  it  was  not  all  Horace  Farquhar  wanted  it  to  be. 
It  was  charming  to  Bertha  to  be  in  this  embarrassment 
of  riches  of  the  beautiful  London  book-shop :  it  was 
more  charming  to  see  her  so  charmed.  The  list  grew 
and  grew  ;  but  Horace's  judgment  was  good,  and  Ber 
tha's  taste  was  simple.  When  it  was  well-nigh  com 
plete,  he  said,  "  I  know  why  you  have  put  in  no  novels 
or  other  stories.  You  think  she  will  get  those  anyway  ; 
and  yet  it  seems  to  me,  when  I  think  over  books,  al 
most  ungrateful  not  to  recognize  the  good  novels  have 
done  to  me." 

'"  I  have  been  thinking  of  that  very  same  thing," 
said  Bertha.  "  If  I  ever  were  tempted  to  tell  a  lie, 
this  '  Helen '  would  rise  up  and  save  me  ;  "  and  she  put 
her  hand  on  Miss  Edgeworth's  u  Helen." 

Horace  fairly  started.  "  Why,  that  is  one  of  my 
sacred  seven  !  "  said  he  ;  "  the  seven  novels  that  have 
helped  make  my  character ; "  and  he  was  so  serious 
that  Bertha  looked  at  him  with  all  the  earnestness  of 
her  deep  gray  e}Tes,  as  she  asked  what  the  others  were. 
u  Robinson  Crusoe  is  one,"  said  Horace.  "  I  pity  the 
man  who  is  not  more  a  man  for  that,  —  there  is  the  loy 
alty  of  friendship,  and  trust  in  the  providence  of  God  ; 
then  there  are  one  or  two  of  Miss  Austen's  novels 
which  have  done  me  more  good  than  most  sermons 
have;  there  is  Dickens's  'Christmas  Carol,'  and  the 
'  Chimes,'  which  we  were  speaking  of;  and  the  seventh 
on  my  sacred  shelf  of  the  novels  of  character  is  Miss 
Martineau's  '  Deerbrook.' " 


208  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

"  I  know  them  all  but  that,"  said  Bertha.     "  That  is 
».  a  book  I  never  saw." 

u  Can  you  bring  me  '  Deerbrook,'  b}7  Miss  Mar- 
tineau  ?  "  said  Horace  Farquhar  to  the  attendant.  And 
while  they  waited,  Bertha  said  ; 

"  What  is  the  lesson  that  '  Deerbrook  '  teaches?  " 

Horace  was  startled  by  the  question :  he  even  hes 
itated  before  he  replied  ;  but  then  he  said  firmly,  "  It  is 
the  lesson  that  no  man  should  ever  be  tempted,  even  in 
the  noblest  effort  of  self-sacrifice,  to  marry  a  woman 
even  the  noblest,  if  he  does  not  love  her.  And  the 
other  lesson  follows :  that  he  should  let  no  advice  of 
friends,  no  false  etiquettes  or  social  entanglements, 
prevent  him  from  telling  the  woman  whom  he  does 
love  with  all  his  heart  what  she  is  to  him,  and  what  he 
could  be  to  her ; "  and  his  ej'es  filled  with  tears,  so 
tremendous  was  his  excitement. 

"  Doctor,"  said  Max  Schwarz,  "  look  at  this.  Can 
this  be  a  misprint?  Here  is  j'our  new  man,  in  his 
'  Survey  of  the  Sixteenth  Centur3r,'  says  Palestrina  was 
born  in  1679.  Then  he  was  only  fifteen  years  old  when 
he  died."*  And  good  Mr.  Schwarz  laughed  heartily, 
little  thinking  what  a  jar  the  false  date  was  to  Horace. 
But  there  was  no  more  chance  for  other  talk.  The 
seven  novels  were  added  to  the  box,  the  strange  direc 
tion  to  Milwaukie  given1,  and  they  all  went  to  the  toy 
shop,  to  buy  travel-presents  for  the  cousins-German. 

Nor  in  the  walk  home,  nor  in  an  evening  visit  after 
wards,  could  Horace  get  another  moment  alone  with 
Bertha.  Not  that  she  avoided  it,  —  she  was  too  un 
conscious  ;  but  there  were  tradesmen  coming  in  with 
parcels,  there  were  German  friends  of  Mr.  Schwarz 
coming  to  say  good-by ;  and  all  that  Dr.  Farquhar 
could  do  was  to  leave  this  note  in  Bertha's  hand  as  he 
bade  her  good-night. 

WEDNESDAY  EVENING. 

MY  DEAR  Miss  BERTHA,  —  The  fates  have  been 
against  me  to-day,  or  I  could  have  said  what  I  wanted 
to  say,  and  what  I  shall  write  so  clumsily.  I  wish  I 


PEOVINO  IDENTIFY. 


could  hope  that  it  does  not  surpris 
I  could  think  that  JTOU  knew,  that  yoi? 
read}',  how  }*ou  are  everything  to  me,  and 
could  be  to  }TOU  if  3'ou  would  let  me.  You  know  me  so 
little,  it  is  so  short  a  time  since  we  met,  that  I  have  not 
dared  till  now  to  tell  3Tou  how  bright  and  true  all  my 
life  would  be,  if  I  could  persuade  }^ou  to  share  it,  and 
how  wretched  and  dark  the  fore-look  is  to  me,  if  you 
say  I  must  live  it  alone.  I  have  not  dared  to  say  this 
till  now ;  and  now  I  do  not  dare  to  let  you  leave  us 
without  saying  it.  I  know  how  much  I  stake  on  my 
venture,  stranger  as  you  must  think  me  ;  but  it  seems 
to  me  as  if  wre  had  known  each  other  for  our  lives  long. 
Pray  see  me  in  the  morning,  and  let  me  tell  you  this. 
See  my  dear  mother,  wrho  knows  all  I  write,  and  hopes 
with  my  own  hope.  Ask  her  if  I  cannot  make  your 
home  happ}r,  if  you  will  let  me ;  but  do  not  answer 
this  note  }*et,  if  you  have  only  to  say  that  four  weeks 
ago  we  were  strangers.  Four  months  or  four  years 
hence,  if  }TOU  choose,  you  shall  know  me  better.  But 
four  months  hence,  or  four  years  hence,  I  cannot  be 
yours  more  truly  and  sacredly  than  I  am  this  day. 
Always,  most  truly  yours, 

HORACE  FARQUHAR. 

"  Oh,  dear  !  "  said  Bertha  to  herself,  as  the  note  fell 
from  her  hand.  She  had  kissed  her  father  good-night, 
and  had  taken  it,  quite  unconsciously,  to  read  in  her 
own  room. 

14 


210  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 


CHAPTER    XXI. 

THE   TWO   MANITOS. 

A  ND  Jasper? 

«"*  Not  for  the  first  time  in  life,  he  "  faced  his  per 
plexities,"  as  he  found  himself  with  Oscar  alone,  after 
they  had  looked  their  last  on  Bertha  at  her  departure. 
And  perhaps  Oscar  made  himself  even  dearer  than  ever 
to  Jasper  because  he  pined  after  Bertha  so  manifestly. 
Oscar  was  a  boy,  Jasper  said  to  himself:  he  was  not 
strong,  and  he  was  not  afraid  nor  ashamed  to  show  how 
much  he  missed  her.  Jasper  was  not  a  boy :  he  had 
not  nearly  died  in  cholera,  and  he  knew  that  Bertha  was 
the  light  of  his  life.  He  had  these  three  reasons,  good 
or  bad,  for  not  showing  the  same  outspoken  sorrow  in 
her  departure  which  Oscar  showed. 

But  everybody  was  willing  to  say  that  the  hospital 
life  was  wholly  changed.  The  onslaught  of  the  epi 
demic  had  been  over  long  ago.  The}^  were  but  closing 
up  their  affairs,  and  began  to  look  in  the  face  the  time 
when  they  should  no  longer  be  patients  and  nurses,  but 
men  and  women  in  the  usual  cares  and  joys  of  life. 
Still  all  that  staff  felt,  even  the  least  demonstrative  of 
them,  that  they,  who  had  gone  through  the  valley  of 
that  shadow  together,  who  side  by  side  had  looked 
Death  in  the  face,  and  with  their  very  best  patience 
had  fought  him  as  they  met  him,  would  bear  a  relation 
to  each  other  more  close  than  this  world  often  knows. 
"Bertha's  departure  seemed  to  break  the  circle;  and 
now  one  by  one  followed  fast.  If  Oscar  had  only  been 
stronger,  and  h:ul  shown  more  power  of  standing  alone, 
.I:ispcr  would  have  been  among  the  first  to  desert,  after 
she  had  gone. 


THE  TWO  MANITOS.  211 

"  You  had  better  send  him  away,"  said  the  doctor ; 
"or,  better  yet,  take  him  awa}r.  You  need  the  change 
almost  as  much  as  he  does.  If  you  had  not  been  made 
of  iron,  you  would  have  gone  under  long  ago.  Why 
not  go  down  to  the  sea?"  said  the  doctor,  after  a 
minute's  pause,  craftily  and  skilfully  ;  for  the  doctor 
saw  many  things,  and  cured  man}^  diseases  where  he 
was  not  consulted.  "  Why  not  go  to  Boston,  and  take 
him  to  the  sea  ?  The  boy  is  a  Viking's  son  :  give  him  a 
salt  bath,  and  he  will  be  well.  It  serves  us  all  right, 
this  hole  of  horrors,"  said  the  doctor,  looking  round, 
"  because  we  ever  did  leave  the  sniff  of  the  sea,  and  the 
salt  of  the  air,  which  the  good  God  gave  us  when  we 
were  born." 

Crafty  doctor,  skilful  doctor,  kind  doctor  !  who  had 
guessed  something  how  matters  stood  with  Jasper,  — 
would  fain  help,  if  only  he  knew  how,  and  so  con 
structed  this  sudden  admiration  for  the  sea  and  sea 
bathing.  It  was  a  temptation  to  poor  Jasper  ;  but  he 
was  on  his  mettle  now,  and  he  would  not  yield.  No 
seashore  for  him  that  summer  !  He  had  the  factory  to 
re-create,  if  it  could  be  re-created.  And  he  doubted  if 
he  could  send  Oscar  away  alone. 

But  Oscar  must  go  somewhere,  —  that  was  clear 
enough,  —  if  he  was  to  renew  the  vigor  of  his  life. 
Jasper  sent  him,  for  a  few  clays,  to  the  country  home 
where  his  aunt  was ;  and  the  experiment  worked  well, 
Jasper  having  persuaded  the  boy  that  it  was  quite  nec 
essary  to  him  that  he  should  go.  Then  he  cast  round 
for  some  other  expedition  which  should  give  him  more 
responsibility,  and  the  good  of  bracing  air.  The  old 
mission-house  at  Mackinaw  occurred  to  him  as  a  place 
where  Oscar  could  range  at  large,  and  return  a  little 
toward  that  savage  life  in  which  is  health  and  strength. 
Turning  this  over  to  construct  an  excuse,  —  for  the  boy 
would  never  go  for  his  own  sake,  or  as  a  recruiting  in 
valid,  —  the  very  happiest  presented  itself:  nay,  it  did 
Jasper  almost  as  much  good  as  his  patient. 

There  returned,  all  iinexpectedl}r,  from  the  friend  in 
Milwaukie  to  whom  it  had  been  intrusted,  a  small  box 


212  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

of  books,  which,  even  in  Detroit,  Bertha  had  found  time 
and  means  to  bring  together  to  send  to  her  little  friend, 
the  school-mistress  ;  of  whose  interests,  as  we  have  seen, 
she  was  mindful  even  in  the  distractions  of  London.  The 
doctor,  the  Detroit  doctor,  had  contributed  to  the  box  ; 
Jasper  and  Oscar  had  contributed  ;  Oscar  had  nailed  it  up 
with  his  very  best  carpentry  ;  and  it  had  been  sent  across 
to  a  business  correspondent  of  Buffum,  Rising,  &  Dun- 
das,  at  Milwaukie.  This  correspondent  now  returned 
it,  wisely  or  unwisety,  sa}Ting  that  he  could  find  no 
such  person  as  the  uncle  to  whom  it  had  been  ad 
dressed. 

Such  a  memorial  was  it  of  Bertha  at  a  time  when 
Jasper  was  most  heart-sick,  and  Oscar  most  in  need  of 
a  mission ! 

Jasper  made  of  the  box  even  more  than  it  deserved. 
He  told  Oscar  that  they  must  try  more  direct  means. 
He  must  go  to  Mackinaw,  and  make  inquiries  there. 
If  necessary,  he  must  go  on  to  the  Great  Manito  Island 
and  the  Little  Manito  Island,  and  find  which  one  had 
the  school  upon  it.  He  must  not  hurry  when  he  was 
once  there,  but  stay  till  he  was  sure  he  was  well  enough 
to  go  to  work  in  the  shop.  If  he  could  find  anybody 
whom  he  could  trust  to  get  out  some  spokes  or  some 
whiffle-trees,  he  might  make  a  contract  for  them  also. 
Thus  commissioned,  he  sent  the  bo}'  away,  well  pleased 
if,  by  one  expedition,  he  could  please  "  his  master,"  and 
please  Bertha. 

Poor  fellow  !  he  had  no  fondness  for  the  lake.  Once 
and  again  he  had  gone  on  it  with  his  father,  as  he,  poor 
man !  was  pursuing  one  and  another  of  the  will-o'-the- 
wisps  which  were  leading  him  to  his  ruin.  Oscar's  as 
sociations  with  steamboats  were  all  connected  with  his 
father's  eager  excitements  and  bitter  disappointments. 
The  earlier  associations  were  "  first-class "  associ 
ations, —  of  saloons  and  state-rooms.  Then  the  hit  or 
associations  were  "second-class,"  —  of  herding  on  the 
forward  dock  with  emigrants  and  horses,  as  his  father's 
moans  grow  less  and  less,  and  he  had  to  economize 
more  and  more  as  they  travelled.  And  now 'Jasper  had 


THE  TWO  MANIT08.  213 

charged  him  to  secure  his  own  comfort,  and  not  to  re 
gard,  in  comparison  with  it,  the  expense  of  his  journey. 
Jasper  had  taken  pains  to  engage  the  best  state-room 
on  the  steamer.  And  the  young  man,  on  his  first  jour- 
ne}'  alone,  found  himself  receiving  attentions  from 
clerk,  captain,  and  the  rest,  which,  as  he  painfully  re 
marked,  his  father  never  knew. 

But  Oscar  did  not  live  in  the  past,  nor  indulge  in 
long  griefs.  He  accepted  the  hospitalities  and  the  in 
troductions  which  came  through  "the  gentlemanly 
clerk's "  courtesies ;  and,  before  the  voyage  had  ad 
vanced  far,  was  a  favorite  with  all  the  young  people 
among  his  fellow-travellers. 

The  old  mission-house  at  Mackinaw  stood,  in  those 
days,  a  curious  reminder  of  the  zeal  with  which  the 
Church  had  done  its  best,  and  not  in  vain,  for  the  In 
dians  of  the  frontier.  This  was  at  about  the  time  when 
missionaries  were  going  westward  in  search  of  new 
worlds  to  conquer ;  and  Oscar  found  little  enough  of 
preaching,  or  the  machineries  of  conversion.  But  none 
the  less  was  he  in  a  new  world.  The  Indian  squaw,  or 
her  husband  or  child,  appeared  here  much  more  often, 
in  what  Oscar  could  imagine  the  native  costume,  than 
in  the  streets  of  Detroit,  and  with  less  of  the  expres 
sion  of  wretchedness  which  he  was  used  to  there.  And 
as  Oscar  waited  for  some  boat  which  would  be  likely  to 
touch  at  the  Manitos,  —  having  left  his  own  boat,  which 
had  freight  for  the  Sault,  —  he  was  once  and  again 
solicited  and  advised  by  people  whom  we  should  now 
call  drummers  in  an  humble  way,  who  chose  to  suppose 
that  he  was  accredited  with  funds  unlimited  from  some 
Eastern  house  for  the  purchase  of  furs.  To  the  Mack- 
inawese,  as  to  most  Americans  of  the  frontier,  it  was 
impossible  to  suppose  that  any  man  had  come  to  their 
country  with  no  notion  but  to  see  the  country,  and  to 
change  his  air.  The  American  of  the  frontier,  wher 
ever  he  lives,  generally  supposes  that  the  stranger 
within  his  gates  has  come  intending  to  buy  a  city,  and 
to  lay  out  lots  for  sale.  But  in  Oscar's  case,  it  was 
clear  that  he  was  indifferent  to  landings,  or  survej'ors' 


214  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

lines,  or  reservations.  The  next  Irypothesis,  therefore, 
was,  that  he  had  come  to  buty  furs  ;  and  as  an  agent 
for  fur-dealers,  evidently  with  little  experience,  but 
probably  with  untold  resources  in  silver  and  gold,  was 
he  entertained  by  the  young  gentlemen  who  introduced 
themselves  to  him  at  the  hotel. 

But  on  the  second  day,  as  Oscar,  greatly  to  his  own 
amusement,  was  playing  off  the  agents  of  one  dealer 
against  those  of  another,  he  lighted  by  accident  on  the 
skipper  of  a  little  lumber-schooner,  who,  as  it  proved, 
had  in  old  times  sailed  for  Mr.  Ilughitt,  Jasper's  uncle. 
This  man  had  run  into  Mackinaw  because  he  had  come 
short  of  tobacco ;  and,  having  supplied  himself  with 
that  commodity,  was  just  getting  under  weigh  again, 
when  Oscar,  with  the  magic  of  youth,  discovered  him, 
discovered  that  he  was  an  old  friend  of  Jasper's,  that 
he  was  bound  up  the  lake,  and  that  he  was  only  too 
glad  to  drop  him  at  the  Great  Manito.  To  the  astonish 
ment,  therefore,  of  Mr.  Fergus  Mac  Tavish,  who  sup 
posed  that,  when  Mr.  Oscar  had  once  seen  his  last 
winter's  beaver,  he  would  be  sure  to  buy  at  twice  their 
value,  Oscar  was  seen  by  the  whole  population  to  pay 
his  modest  bill,  and  to  walk  down  with  Capt.  Zadock 
to  the  lake,  to  go  on  board  the  "  Susan,"  and  to  depart 
from  the  embraces  of  all  Mackinaw  without  so  much 
as  buying  a  single  mink-skin. 

So  far  so  good  for  Oscar.  He  has  passed  the  first 
station-house  in  the  enchanted  journey  of  life,  and  he 
has  not  made  a  fool  of  himself  so  far. " 

Whether  his  next  station  were  so  fortunate  ma}' be 
doubted.  It  is  for  the  reader  to  see  and  to  decide. 
Jasper  had  never  known  —  if,  indeed,  Bertha  had  ever 
known  —  whether  the  pretty  school-mistress  were  on  the 
(Ireat  Manito  or  the  Little  Manito  Island.  Indeed,  it 
was  by  rather  a  broad  generalization  that  they  had  in 
ferred  that  she  was  on  nny  Manito  at  nil.  Jasper  had 
fully  explained  to  Oscar  his  uncertainty  in  this  regard  ; 
and  that,  because  he  was  uncertain,  he  could  not  give 
the  little  book-box  to  the  clerk  of  any  Milwaukie  steam 
boat,  with  directions  to  leave  it  at  the  Manito  landing. 


THE  TWO  MANITOS.  215 

Oscar  knew  perfectly  well  that  his  first  commission  was 
to  decide  between  the  respective  Manitos,  and  not  to 
deliver  his  freight,  till,  by  personal  intercourse,  he  had 
verified  the  school-mistress.  Oscar  knew  no  better  way 
than  to  begin  with  the  Manitos,  and  bravely  follow 
them  through.  There  might  be  more  than  two,  for 
aught  he  knew  ;  but  none  the  less  would  he  make  per 
sonal  examination. 

"It  is  personal  presence,"  as  Jasper  always  taught 
him,  "  that  moves  the  world." 

When  he  confided  to  Capt.  Zadock  these  views,  and 
the  general  character  of  his  commission,  as  the  great 
mainsail  of  the  schooner  filled,  and  they  left  the  mis 
sion-house,  the  fort,  the  light-house,  and  their  country's 
flag,  behind  them,  Capt.  Zadock  had  no  doubts  what 
ever. 

"  Oh,  sartin  !  it's  the  Big  Manito.  They  can't  have 
no  school  at  the  Little  Manito,  nor  at  any  of  them  other 
places.  But  the  Big  Manito,  —  yes  :  sartin  it  is  there. 
Why,  I  remember  that  school !  Sis  Fortin,  old  Zeb 
Fortin's  daughter,  taught  school  there  when  I  first 
landed  there." 

Oscar  asked  when  that  was. 

Oh  !  that  —  that  was  nine  years  ago.  Sis  Fortin  af 
terwards  married,  —  married  a  poor  stick,  anyway. 
He  ran  away  from  the  "  Gazelle,"  —  the  "  Gazelle  "  was 
a  steamboat  which  Oscar  must  remember :  the  same 
that  took  fire  and  burned  at  Windsor  in  the  winter  after 
Ned  Hapgood  ran  away  from  her,  and  married  Sis  For 
tin. 

No :  Oscar  did  not  remember  the  "  Gazelle."  None 
the  less,  however,  did  he  accept  these  views  of  the  skip 
per  as  the  best  information  he  was  likely  to  get,  and 
determined  to  land  at  the  Big  Manito,  as  the  skipper 
advised,  not  to  sa}^  directed  him.  This  matter  well 
settled,  they  could  both  lie  back  comfortably  on  the 
deck,  not  asking  for  other  couch  than  the  rough  boards 
of  the  deck-load  ;  and,  while  Capt.  Zadock  smoked  with 
new  zest  after  his  temporary  abstinence,  O.scar  pumped 
him  for  stories  of  the  old  days  at  Duquesne,  —  of  Mr. 


216  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

Hughitt,  and,  most  of  all,  of  Jasper's  boyhood.  There 
was  a  little  interruption  when  Capt.  Zaclock's  wife  an 
nounced  that  supper  was  read}' :  but  in  the  captain's 
long  yarns  the  evening  passed  quickly  ;  and  it  was  late 
before  Oscar  turned  in,  expecting  that  they  should 
make  a  landing  at  the  Big  Manito  early  the  next  morn 
ing. 

Earlier,  it  proved,  than  anybody  expected.  Before 
four,  Capt.  Zadock  summoned  him ;  and  Oscar  found 
in  a  moment  that  the  "  Susan"  was  running  off  on  her 
veiy  best  tack,  at  a  speed  he  had  never  given  her  any 
credit  for.  Truth  was,  the  wind  was  blowing  almost  a 
gale  ;  but  it  happened  to  be  so  far  favorable  to  Capt. 
Zadock's  views,  that  he  had  thus  far  refused  to  shorten 
sail,  although  Mackc}7,  the  mate,  had  once  or  twice  sug 
gested  it,  and  although  the  breeze  was  so  stiff  that 
Capt.  Zadock  had  chosen  not  to  go  below.  Under  the 
stars,  he  pointed  out  to  Oscar  the  line  of  the  Big  Man 
ito  as  they  approached  it ;  and  told  him,  that,  with  this 
fresh  wind,  he  believed  he  would  only  lie  by  enough  to 
drop  him,  and  that  he  would  not  come  to  an  anchor,  as 
there  had  been  some  proposal  of  doing  the  night  before. 
Accordingly,  he  ran  as  close  as  he  could  to  the  landing 
where  the  steamers  were  used  to  take  wood  on  board, 
—  made  a  short  tack  there  ;  and,  as  the  "  Susan  "  went 
about,  Oscar  dropped  his  box  of  books  and  his  valise 
into  her  only  boat.  Mackey  and  he  rowed  to  shore : 
he  landed,  and  bade  good-by  with  a  parting  hail ;  and 
so  found  himself,  before  light  in  the  morning,  at  the 
end  of  a  crazy  plank-wharf,  on  an  island  all  but  des- 
ohito,  with  his  welcome  to  win  from  the  aborigines,  of 
whatever  race  or  disposition  they  might  happen  to  be. 

'I'hc  l>oy  pleased  himself,  as  he  walked  up  and  down 
waiting  for  daylight,  by  remembering  his  favorite  con 
ceit  that  he  w:is  Jasper's  man  Friday.  Only  this  time 
it  was  not  Robinson,  but  Friday,  who  was  watching  for 
the  savages,  and  exploring  the  island,  lie  had  no  fear 
that  hU  luirir.'iin1  and  his  precious  IM>X  would  he  stolen, 
and  walked  up  the  roadway  to  reconnoitre  the  scat 
tered  houses  which  made  the  only  village,  trying  to 


THE  TWO  MANITOS.  217 

make  out  the  school-house,  and  to  plan  out  his  campaign 
of  the  morning. 

An  hour  more,  and  the  little  settlement  showed  signs 
of  waking.  As  soon  as  Oscar  satisfied  himself  that  the 
household  nearest  the  water  was  well  in  action,  after 
allowing  a  good  half  hour  from  the  time  the  smoke  be 
gan  to  curl  from  the  chimney,  he  boldly  climbed  the 
rail-fence  which  separated  the  cabin  from  the  roadwa}r, 
knocked  at  the  door,  and  pushed  his  prearranged 
question : 

"  Can  you  tell  me  if  Miss  Ruth  Cottam  lives  on  the 
island  ?  I  believe  she  keeps  the  school." 

"Ruth  Cottam?  Ruth  Cottam?"  —  this  was  the  im 
mediate  answer  of  the  old  lady  whom  he  addressed  — 
"I  don't  know.  Jabez!  Jabez!"  —  the  last  to  some 
bo}"  too  lazy  to  appear  just  3~et,  —  "  what's  the  teacher's 
name  ?  " 

"  Doan  know." 

This  was  Jabez's  unsatisfactorj'  reply. 

"  Amelia  Ann !  Amelia  Ann !  what's  the  teacher's 
name  ?  " 

No  answer. 

"  Jabez  !  Jabez  !  ask  Amelia  Ann  what's  the  teach 
er's  name." 

Amelia,  upon  this,  appeared,  such  toilet  as  she  was 
accustomed  to  make  being  but  half  completed,  but  with 
some  curiosity  to  know  what  contingency  had  started 
the  unexpected  question.  Gradually  this  curiositj7  gave 
way  so  far,  that  she  was  able  in  a  measure  to  devote 
herself  to  the  answer ;  and  the  answer  was,  that  the 
teacher  was  Miss  Coop,  —  an  answer  for  which  Oscar 
was  not  prepared,  and  from  which  he  attempted  with 
out  success  to  dissuade  her.  It  was*  Miss  Coop,  she 
said,  and  never  had  been  an}*thing  else  :  she  was  Ger- 
shom  Coop's  sister,  and  had  "  taught  school "  on  the 
island  now  for  three  years.  Oscar  tried  in  vain  to 
elicit  some  memories  of  Miss  Schwarz's  visit  to  the 
school,  but  with  no  success.  The  boat  often  touched 
at  the  island ;  and,  while  they  are  wooding  up,  the 
folks  often  walked  up  to  the  school.  Amelia  Ann 


218  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

dared  say  that  the  particular  people  Oscar  knew  did 
walk  up,  or  she  dared  say  the}'  did  not  walk  up  :  it  was 
quite  evident  that  she  had  her  memory  sufficiently  un 
der  control  to  make  it  recollect  anj'thing  that  was  de 
sirable.  It  was  equally  evident  that  the  value  of  its 
oracles  was  all  the  less  from  this  ease  with  which  the 
pythoness  could  evoke,  could  utter,  or  could  refuse  them. 
The  only  thing  certain  about  these  oracles  was,  that 
the  teacher's  name  was  Miss  Coop.  Oscar  put  a  few 
questions,  from  which  to  learn  whether  "  Miss,"  in  the 
language  of  the  Manitos,  indicated  maiden  life  or  mar 
ried.  From  the  answer  to  these,  it  appeared  that  Miss 
Coop  must  have  lived  many  years,  or  what  Amelia  Ann 
called  many,  in  a  maiden  state.  Oscar  had  not  been 
foolishly  reticent,  and  early  in  the  interview  had  ex 
plained  who  he  was,  how,  and  why,  he  came  there  ; 
and,  indeed,  had  briefly  anticipated  the  questions  by 
which  his  own  would  otherwise  have  been  parried,  — 
acting  on  Dr.  Franklin's  very  admirable  rule  for  such 
circumstances.  Jabez  had  joined  the  group  before 
long ;  and  then  Jabez's  father  and  his  uncle,  and  a 
tribe  of  Gershoms  and  Elizabeth  Sarahs  and  Sauls  and 
Phebe  Marias,  making  a  family  of  eight  or  nine  chil 
dren,  and  more  elders  than  Oscar  could  well  place  on 
so  short  an  interview.  All  parties  offered  advice  and 
suggestions,  but  practically  all  advice  amounted  to 
this  :  that  he  should  take  his  breakfast  where  he  was, 
and  then,  guided  by  Saul,  should  go  and  find  Gershom 
Coop's  house.  Gershom  could  tell  him  where  "  Miss 
Coop  "  was,  and  she  could  tell  him,  if  anj'body  could, 
of  Iviith  Cottam ;  and  this  was  done.  Oscar  ate  such 
a  breakfast  as  he  had  long  forgotten.  He  declined  the 
molasses  which  was  protiercd  for  "sw'cctning"  to  his 
tea ;  he  boldly  engaged  the  saloeratus  bread  with  the 
omnipotence  of  }Touth,  but  came  off  somewhat  discom 
fited.  He  would  not  appear  grand,  however ;  and  he 
tried  the.  salt  pork  with  more  success.  He  flattered 
himself  that  his  want  of  appetite  had  not  been  observed, 
when  the  queen  of  the  table,  by  way  of  adding  honor 
to  it,  bade  Thebc  Maria  the  younger  climb  to  the  top 


THE  TWO  MANITOS.  219 

of  the  closet  which  served  as  pantry,  and  bring  down 
a  plate  she  would  find  there.  Amid  a  rapturous  chorus 
of  applause  from  the  youngsters,  Phebe  Maria  rapidly 
ascended  from  shelf  to  shelf,  and  returned  more  rapidly 
with  some  cold  huckleberry  cake,  which  had  been  pre 
served  with  care,  as  all  parties  knew,  for  some  state 
occasion  ;  and  poor  Oscar  found,  that,  ~by  his  courtes}7 
all  round,  he  had  made  an  impression  so  agreeable  that 
madam's  heart  was  softened,  and  the  meal  was  to  be 
made  a  feast  in  his  honor.  With  such  zeal  as  the  com 
pliment  could  arouse,  he  gave  himself  to  his  new  duty, 
and  engaged  the  cake.  He  was  well-seconded  by  the 
children ;  and,  as  this  last  relay  was  exhausted,  one 
and  another  pushed  back  the  blocks  and  stools  upon 
wrhich  they  were  sitting,  and  proclaimed  that  they  were 
"  done."  So  Oscar  was  set  free  to  visit  Gershom 
Coop's. 

Saul  led  him  to  the  cabin,  chattering  all  the  way. 
The  school,  as  Oscar  had  already  learned,  was  closed, 
after  a  short  summer  term  of  a  few  weeks.  The  boy 
showed  him  the  little  school-house,  —  a  small,  neat 
enough  log-cabin,  —  and  the}T  loitered  a  minute  to  look 
in.  Arrived  at  Gershom's,  they  did  not  find  him,  but 
did  find  a  hard-featured,  dried-up  woman,  tall  as  Meg 
Merrilics,  and,  as  Oscar  afterwards  said,  as  old,  who 
was  setting  out  her  milk-pans  on  a  sunny  shelf  outside 
the  cabin. 

"  Teacher,"  cried  Saul,  in  some  terror,  "  here's  a 
man's  got  some  books  for  you  !  " 

Miss  Coop  looked  down  contemptuous  upon  Oscar, 
but  softened  more  than  he  had  thought  possible,  as  she 
asked  him  to  come  in.  The  introduction  was  a  mis 
fortune.  Oscar  was,  of  course,  convinced  at  once  that 
Miss  Coop  was  not  Ruth  Cottam.  He  explained,  as 
best  he  might,  who  he  was,  and  who  he  was  not.  He 
told,  as  best  he  could,  of  Miss  Schwarz's  visit  at  the 
school-house.  He  was  firm,  beyond  persuasion,  in  the 
statement  that  it  was  Ruth  Cottam  he  was  in  search  of. 
And  he  need  not  have  been  alarmed.  It  very  soon  ap 
peared,  that,  though  Miss  Coop  wanted  her  rights,  that 


220  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

was  all  she  wanted.  She  wanted  quite  as  much  that 
other  people  should  have  theirs.  Na}',  to  his  amaze 
ment,  Oscar  observed,  or  thought  he  did,  that  books 
had  no  particular  charm  for  her.  She  dropped  the  re 
mark  that  the  children  had  enough  books,  all  except 
"Introductions  to  the  Seventh  National ";  and  Oscar 
had  early  explained  that  he  had  no  such  "  Introduc 
tions."  She  had  tried  to  persuade  him  for  a  moment 
that  he  was  a  book-peddler,  and  could  sell  his  wares  to 
anybocly  he  chose.  But  Oscar  had,  of  course,  rejected 
this  Irypothesis  of  his  duty  and  destiny.  Arrived  at 
this  point,  he  asked  meekly  if  there  were  no  other 
school  on  the  island. 

Oh,  no !  There  was  no  other  school :  there  never 
would  be.  It  was  "as  much  as  ever"  they  kept  up 
this. 

And  she  was  quite  sure  that  Miss  Ruth  Cottam  had 
made  no  visit  here  this  summer  ? 

Of  course  she  was.  Not  so  many  people  on  the 
island  that  another  teacher  should  come,  and  she  not 
know  it.  And,  as  this  answer  came,  Oscar  detected  an 
insinuation  which  implied  danger  to  the  "  teacher " 
who  should  thus  come  prospecting  on  what,  with  all  her 
scorn  of  it,  she  regarded  as  her  own  reservation.  All 
this  time,  be  it  observed,  the  conversation  went  forward 
as  if  he  were  some  guilt}'  party,  whose  sins  she  had  dis 
covered,  and  was  discovering,  by  cross-examination. 
In  tone,  and  almost  in  gesture,  in  a  certain  snap  of  the 
oyc  which  Saul  evidently  dreaded,  Miss  Coop  cross- 
questioned  Oscar  with  a  determination  which  fairly 
in:; do  him  wonder  whether  he  were  a  detected  criminal. 
But,  as  he  had  no  sins  to  confess,  he  confessed  none. 
Fairly  puzzled,  however,  he  dropped  the  phrase,  ha  11- 
aloud,  "  If  there  were  any  school  on  cither  of  the  other 
islands? " 

"Audvwho  said  there  was  no  school  on  the  other 
islands?"  demanded  Miss  Coop  loftily.- 

"Why,  Capt.  Xtulock  said  so,"  said  Oscar,  surprised. 

"  Cnpt.  Zadork  had  lu'tUT  mind  his  own  business. 
What  docs  he  know  about  school-keeping?  If  he  knew 


THE  TWO  MANITOS.  221 

enough  to  keep  his  sloop  from  going  ashore  on  the  '  two 
pigs,'  it  would  be  better  for  him.  Capt.  Zadock  talks 
a  good  deal  more  than's  good  for  him." 

Clearly  there  was  some  prejudice  regnant  against 
Capt.  Zadock  ;  and  it  had  reacted  on  Oscar,  as  one  of 
his  passengers.  But,  as  soon  as  Miss  Coop  thus  re 
lieved  herself,  she  pointed  out  the  other  Manito,  and 
was  willing  to  explain  that  a  school  had  lately  been 
established  there.  She  did  not  know  who  kept  it,  but 
she  did  know  that  Capt.  Fortin  came  over  before  Thanks 
giving  last  year  to  talk  with  her  about  it.  She  did 
not  doubt  they  had  started  the  school  then.  Indeed, 
"  come  to  think  of  it,"  she  was  sure  that  Jerushy  Whit 
ney  had  told  her  that  all  her  children  were  at  the  school 
all  winter. 

Why  in  the  world  could  she  not  have  said  all  this 
before?  This  was  Oscar's  wonder.  Poor  Oscar,  he 
will  find  that  problem  a  hard  one  to  solve,  as  he  goes 
through  life  :  why  third-rate  people,  when  they  do  know 
anything  which  is  of  any  use,  hold  it  back  with  such 
resolute  stupidity  or  stupid  resolution? 

"  I  must  go  to  the  little  Manito,"  said  he.  "  I  am 
very  much  obliged  to  you,  Miss  Coop." 

And  Miss  Coop,  in  her  rough  way,  bade  him  good-by, 
and  returned  to  scouring  her  tins,  with  the  distinct  feel 
ing  that  she  had  rebuked  to  the  face  one  who  de 
served  some  blame.  That  is  a  way  with  such  people. 
Poor  Oscar  went  his  way,  hardly  conscious  that  he  had 
given  such  a  glow  of  self-satisfaction  to  the  old  terma 
gant  for  the  day. 

What  he  was  planning  for  was  another  voyage.  Man 
Friday  must  see  what  was  on  these  blue  islands  in  the 
offing.  There  was  no  friendly  lumber-man  this  time. 
There  was  much  trudging  from  wood-lot  to  beach,  and 
from  beach  to  barn,  and  from  barn  to  cabin,  to  see  who 
could  take  him  across  ;  for  Oscar  would  not  wait  —  not 
a  day.  This  scheme  failed,  and  that ;  but  the  boy  was 
determined ;  and  as  the  breeze  gathered,  after  a  sultry 
noon,  he  found  himself  in  what  these  people  called  a 
batteau,  which  means  a  flat-boat,  not  unlike  the  dory 


222  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

of  the  Eastern  fisherman,  with  Jabez  Good  to  bring  the 
boat  back,  and  with  the  box  and  valise,  which  he  had 
guarded  so  faithfully,  put  in  for  ballast.  The  wind  rose 
as  the  young  fellows  pushed  off,  and  Jabez  satisfied 
himself  that  he  could  carry  sail  enough  to  make  time 
nearly  as  good  as  they  would  do  with  their  oars.  Oscar 
satisfied  himself,  after  a  minute,  that  Jabez  understood 
his  business  ;  and  so  they  escaped  the  necessity,  which  at 
noon  they  had  both  admitted,  of  rowing  across  under  a 
hot  sun  from  island  to  island.  The  line  of  the  smaller 
island  lifted,  the  dark  blue  changed  into  shades  of 
green  ;  and,  before  the  sun  went  down,  the}*  found  them 
selves  picking  out  a  place  for  a  landing.  They  could 
have  gone  round  to  the  steamboat  wharf.  But  it  was 
clear  that  that  would  cost  two  or  three  extra  tacks ; 
and  the  young  men  determined  to  beach  the  boat  on  a 
white  beach  which  was  full  in  sight  as  they  drew  near. 

A  sort  of  natural  landing  offered  itself.  A  white 
pine  had  fallen  seaward  long  ago,  from  the  little  bluff' 
which  rose  above  the  shore ;  and,  with  its  roots  still 
tangled  as  they  grew,  stretched  its  gray,  half-rotten 
branches  out  into  the  lake.  Jabez  ran  the  skiff  up  to 
the  side  of  this  trunk ;  and  Oscar,  taking  her  painter 
in  his  hand,  swung  himself  lightly  on  the  log,  and 
picked  his  way  carefully  among  its  rotten  branches  to 
the  shore. 

A  group  of  bare-legged  children  had  witnessed  the 
approach,  and  came  screaming  and  chattering  down  the 
shore  as  Oscar  stepped  along.  They  were  followed  by 
a  young  woman,  too  young  to  be  their  mother,  who 
mi^ht  have  been  an  older  sister.  Oscar  found  he  had 
rather  more  on  his  hands  than  he  had  expected,  as  the 
rope  tangled  itself  pertinaciously  among  one  and 
another  outstretched  branch  of  his  little  tree-bridge. 
He  stepped  hack  and  forth:  he  could  not  spring  back 
into  the  boat,  or  he  would  gladly  have  done  so.  He 
was  on  the  point  of  bidding  Jabez  put  off  and  make 
his  landing  alone,  when  this  girl  called  out  pleasantly, 
-•  Throw  the  painter  to  me."  And  Oscar  did  so;  she 
standing  well  clear  of  the  old  pine,  that  it  might  not  be 


THE  TWO  MANITOS.  223 

tangled  again.  She  caught  it  with  a  handy  grasp,  ran 
along,  and  up  the  beach  with  it,  all  the  children  shout 
ing  and  helping  ;  and  Jabez  was  landed,  dry-footed,  too, 
before  Master  Oscar  had  stepped  through,  over,  and 
among  the  rotten  branches  of  the  pine,  and  came, 
laughing,  up  to  the  merry  party. 

"You  are  a  better  sailor  than  I,"  he  said,  as  he 
thanked  this  pretty  longshoreman.  "I  made  a  poor 
landing ;  and  now,  perhaps,  }-ou  can  tell  me  what  I 
come  from  the  other  island  to  ask,  —  whether  there  is  a 
school  on  this  island,  and  who  the  mistress  is." 

Oscar  had  made  such  a  botch  with  his  tree-trunk  and 
his  tangled  rope,  that  his  "  lady  of  the  lake "  was  a 
great  deal  more  at  ease  than  she  wrould  have  been  had 
his  corning  been  more  dignified.  The  children  were  in 
a  gale  ;  and  she  was  not  far  from  it  herself.  So,  when 
he  spoke  in  his  half-puzzled,  half-joking  way,  she  an 
swered  in  just  the  same  mood  and  tone.  "School? 
Yes :  there  is,  or  was  ;  and  I  am  the  school-ma'am." 

"  She's  a  real  good  school-ma'am,  too,"  said  little  bare 
foot  the  3Toungest.  "  She  lets  us  have  lots  of  fun." 
And  then  little  barefoot  subsided,  frightened  with  her 
own  audacity. 

"Are  you  really  Miss  Ruth  Cottam?"  said  Oscar, 
amazed  and  amused  that  his  Odyssey  had  ended  so 
suddenly. 

"  I  am  really  Miss  Ruth  Cottam,  and  nobody  else,"  said 
the  pretty  Manitoan  ;  "  but,  pray,  who  are  3rou  ?  "  And 
she  laughed  heartily,  and  so  did  Oscar,  and  so  did  Jabez. 

"  Wh}',"  said  Oscar,  "  I  am  what  they  called  an  ex 
pressman.  You  remember  Miss  Bertha  Schwarz?  I 
have  brought  you  a  box  of  books  from  her."  And  he 
showed  her  her  name  on  the  box,  as  it  lay  in  the  boat. 

"  Dear  Miss  Schwarz  !  how  kind  she  is  to  remember 
me.  I  knew  she  remembered  me.  She  said  she 
should  send  these  books ;  and  I  knew  it  was  a 
mistake  that  they  had  not  come  before.  It  is  just 
like  her  to  send  them.  And  —  and  I  am  sure,  sir," 
said  Ruth,  beginning  now  to  feel  shy,  and  that  she 
ought  to  have  felt  shy  before,  "  I  am  sure,  sir,  I  am 


224  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

very  much  obliged  to  3*011 :  you  have  taken  so  much 
pains."  And  then  a  terror  came  over  Ruth,  that  per 
haps  she  ought  to  pay  him  for  bringing  the  books.  He 
said  he  was  an  expressman ;  and  through  the  news 
papers  the  meaning  of  that  word  had  dawned  on  her. 
This  teiTor  was  horrible  to  sustain.  But  she  choked  it 
down  with  the  resolution  that  if  he  wanted  any  money 
he  might  ask  for  it :  she  would  die  before  she  said  any 
thing  about  it.  And,  meanwhile,  Oscar  was  casting 
about  to  find  what  his  next  turn  was  to  be.  Fortunately 
for  both  of  them,  there  was  a  duty  next  his  hand, 
still,  of  the  carnal  or  material  kind. 

"  Jabez,  how  are  we  to  get  this  box  to  Miss  Cottam's 
house?" 

Jabez  proposed  slinging  it  by  its  rope-handles  to  the 
oars,  and  canying  it  between  them.  But  Ruth  knew 
better  than  that.  She  bade  them  both  leave  boat  and 
box  and  valise  where  they  were  :  led  them  through  the 
wood-road  by  which  she  and  the  children  had  come  to 
the  water  ;  sent  up  "  into  the  lot "  for  old  man  Kreuzer  ; 
and,  when  he  appealed,  sent  him  with  his  ox-team 
round  by  the  beach ;  and,  meanwhile,  herself,  in  an 
easy  and  charming  hospitality,  made  the  young  men  at 
home  on  the  shady  side  of  the  cabin.  Before  old 
Kreuzer  had  come  up,  Ruth  had  a  little  table,  with  a 
white  cloth  and  three  tea-cups  upon  it,  standing  on  the 
broad,  flat  stone  in  front  of  the  door,  and  had  her  wel 
come  cup  of  tea,  and  her  matchless  half-loaf,  and  her 
prett}'  pat  of  butter,  and  her  dish  of  raspberry-jam, 
upon  the  same. 

Oscar,  meanwhile,  was  telling  the  story  of  Bertha 
Schwarz's  life  from  the  moment  when  she  and  Ruth 
Cottam  parted  on  the  steamboat.  Of  the  cholera  on 
the  boat,  and  of  Bertha's  disappointment  at  Detroit,  he 
had  to  tell :  then  how  fortunate  that  disappointment 
was  for  him  ;  for  he  insisted  upon  it,  that,  but  for  her 
care,  and  Mr.  Jasper's,  he  should  have  died,  —  which 
view  was  probably  the  true  one.  Then  how  lovely  she 
was  i;>  everybody,  and  how  she  was  the  life  of  the 
whole  hospital,  and  iiow  they  hated  to  have  her  go 


THE  TWO  MANITOS.  22' 

away.  Then  why  she  left  because  she  was  an  heiress  ; 
and  how  Mr.  Jasper  said  they  should  never  see  her 
again. 

Who  Mr.  Jasper  was,  who  constantly  appeared  in 
Oscar's  stor3T,  Ruth  did  not  know  ;  but  she  thought,  not 
unwisely,  that  if  she  w.aited  long  enough  she  should 
learn.  Oscar  went  on  with  his  story,  with  much  more 
detail  than  would  have  been  needful,  or  than  he  would 
have  dreamed  of  had  he  not  a  listener  so  sympathetic, 
and,  shall  we  say  ?  so  pretty,  and  so  graceful  in  her 
attention  and  attentions.  For  Ruth  Cottam  was  on 
her  own  heather  now.  Had  two  gentlemen  come  to 
visit  her  in  her  school-room,  where  she  was  not  sure  of 
herself,  she  would  have  been  frightened  out  of  her 
senses ;  or  had  she  been  in  Detroit,  among  the  grand 
people  she  had  never  seen,  she  could  not  have  said  a 
word  for  herself.  But  her  guests  were  people  who  had 
rendered  her  a  real  kindness  and  an  essential  service. 
She  would  and  could  direct  the  hospitalities  of  her 
cousin's  house  in  welcoming  them  ;  and  she  had  deter 
mination  enough  to  put  her  quite  at  ease  as  she  did  so. 
Better  than  this,  here  was  news  of  this  bright,  lovely 
Miss  Schwarz,  whom  she  had  blessed  every  day  since 
they  parted. 

Oscar  made  her  laugh  most  heartily  as  he  described 
Miss  Coop,  and  told  how  that  lady  had  scolded  him  and 
frightened  him.  Miss  Coop  had  never  heard  of  Ruth 
Cottam ;  but  many  was  the  tale  of  Miss  Coop  which 
one  and  another  islander  had  brought  to  Ruth's  ears,  — 
all  of  them,  alas !  reflecting  a  certain  acidity  and 
ferocity.  Oscar's  half-unconscious  imitation  of  her 
severity  of  manner  revealed  no  novelty.  Ruth  said 
she  thanked  him  all  the  more  for  her  books,  now  she 
knew  through  what  perils  he  had  passed  to  bring  them. 

And  so  they  finished  the  tea,  though  they  drew  it  out 
so  long.  The  children  gathered  round  the  door-step 
listening  to  the  talk  ;  and  Oscar  began  to  feel  a  terrible 
heart-sinking,  like  that  of  Bruce  when  he  thought  he 
was  at  the  head  of  the  Nile.  Poor  boy !  he  had  no 
more  worlds  to  conquer.  Here  was  the  box,  and  here 
15 


226  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

was  the  owner.  And  must  he,  therefore,  turn  round 
and  go  away,  when  she  was  so  charming,  and  he  would 
be  so  glad  to  tell  her  stories  of  Miss  Schwarz  as  long 
as  she  would  listen  ?  Might  he  pretend  that  his  health 
required  him  to  stay?  How  long  ought  expressmen 
to  stay  when  they  brought  boxes?  Jabez  was  restless. 
Jabez  had  said  but  little  ;  but  he  intimated  now  that  the 
wind  would  lull  after  sunset.  Did  Oscar  mean  to  go 
back,  or  not  ?  Ruth  could  not  say  anything.  She  knew 
there  was  not  much  on  the  Xittle  Mauito  to  interest 
people. 

Poor  Oscar !  What  should  he  do  ?  Go  back  as  he 
came  ?  or  could  he  find  any  reason  for  staying  on  the 
Little  Manito,  and  letting  Jabez  return  alone  ? 


HARD  WOOD  LUMBER.  227 


CHAPTER    XXII. 

HARD   WOOD    LUMBER. 

TABEZ  urged  again  his  suggestion  that  the  wind 
*J  would  die  away  as  the  sun  went  down.  And  then, 
speaking  by  a  sudden  inspiration,  Oscar  answered,  "  I 
think  it  will ;  and  3^011  had  better  take  the  boat  back 
now.  I  shall  not  go  with  you.  Mr.  Rising  wants  me 
to  bu}~  some  spokes  and  some  seasoned  ash ;  and  I 
shall  see  if  I  cannot  find  it  here."  And  he  turned  to 
Ruth,  as  innocently  as  if  she  had  been  a  lumber-mer 
chant  sticking  planks  in  his  yard,  and  asked  her  if  she 
thought  any  of  the  people  on  the  island  had  ever  cut 
and  shaved  spokes  for  carriage-builders. 

That  will  do,  Oscar.  With  that  decision  and  readi 
ness  your  chances  for  this  world's  successes  are  not 
bad.  Jabez,  you  may  go.  The  reader  may  imagine 
Jabez  departing,  and  will  not  be  troubled  to  attend  to 
him  again. 

Ruth  was  not  uninformed  about  spokes  or  ash-timber. 
At  Manitowoc,  which  is  a  settlement  on  the  mainland, 
her  uncles  had  once  and  again  taken  orders  for  seasoned 
wood  for  wrheelwrights  and  carriage-builders.  And 
Ruth  simply  launched  out  into  details  of  what  the 
island  could  and  could  not  do ;  as  to  which  the  reader 
of  these  lines  need  not  be  instructed.  For  the  more 
important  detail,  it  was  evident  that  Oscar  must  wait 
until  her  cousin  came  home. 

And  he  waited.  And,  from  spokes  and  ashen  whiffle- 
trees,  the  conversation  drifted  round  again  not  unnat 
urally  to  his  little  voyage  in  the  boat ;  to  his  bigger 
voyage  in  "•  The  Susan  ; "  to  bigger  vo}^ages  }*et  in  one 
and  another  steamer  ;  and  to  the  biggest  voyage  of  all, 


228  UPS  AND  DOWXS. 

from  Hamburg  to  New  York,  when  he  was  only  a  bo3T. 
And  so  he  came  to  tell  of  fiords  and  mountain-climbing 
in  his  own  home ;  of  wild,  exciting  skating-parties  in 
winter,  which  he  could  just  remember  ;  and,  again,  how 
once,  when  he  first  went  away  from  his  own  home,  his 
uncle  took  him  up,  far  up,  on  the  northern  coast,  and, 
night  and  morning,  the}'  saw  sunrise  and  sunset  at  the 
same  time.  How  he  made  friends  with  the  little  troops 
of  Laplanders,  he  told  ;  and  how  one  of  them  gave  him 
a  reindeer  for  his  own,  and  how  wretched  he  was  with 
the  present*.  He  made  Ruth  and  the  listening  children, 
who  had  quite  outstaid  their  bed-time,  laugh  heartily 
with  this  misadventure. 

Not  that  all  this  narrative  of  the  lively  boy  was  one 
steady  lecture  or  unbroken  yarn.  Quick  and  almost 
dramatic  as  he  was  in  the  vigor  and  animation  with 
which  he  presented  to  her  again  the  scenes  he  had  passed 
through,  he  startled  Ruth,  who  was  sometimes  so  shy 
and  quiet,  into  an  animation  and  freedom  which  after 
wards  surprised  herself;  and,  without  knowing  it,  she 
was  capping  stories  with  him,  and  trumping  the  leading 
tales  in  his  narratives.  For  a  demure  little  school-mis 
tress  on  a  Manito  she  had  had  her  share  of  adventure 
too.  Poor  child !  she  remembered  neither  father  nor 
mother  ;  and  when  Oscar  once,  without  pausing,  hurried 
by  an  allusion  to  his  mother's  death,  as  if  he  could  not 
trust  himself  to  speak  of  it,  her  great  eyes  brimmed 
full  of  tears,  without  her  saying  one  word,  but  not  with 
out  his  knowing  the  s}Tmpath3T.  Her  voyages  had  been 
lake-voyages  and  canal-voyages,  and  one  long  voyage 
on  the  Mississippi.  But  she  had,  with  one  and  another 
uncle  and  aunt,  and  as  she  was  forwarded  by  one  aunt 
and  another  to  some  third  aunt  or  fourth  uncle,  made 
many  weird  and  queer  expeditions  through  the  forest. 
She  had  slept  in  wagons,  and  under  wagons,  and  under 
tents,  and  at  open  camp-fires.  And  Oscar  soon  noted, 
that,  in  the  midst  of  her  undisguised  curiosity  as  to  the 
manner  of  life  in  detail  which  people  led  at  such  great 
centres  as  Milwaukie  and  Detroit,  to  her  the  cabin  in 
which  they  were  at  the  Little  Manito,  which,  even  to 


HARD  WOOD  LUMBER.  229 

him,  was  primitive  in  its  simplicity,  seemed  an  advance 
in  comfort  on  much  of  the  home-life  that  she  had  been 
used  to.  She  understood  its  full  capacities,  and  knew 
how  to  make  the  best  of  them. 

And  tales  of  camp-life,  and  of  slow  emigrant  journeys 
over  corduroy-roads,  or  mere  lumber-roads,  over  on  the 
mainland,  led  to  talk  about  the  forests  and  forest  growth, 
and  the  prairies  and  prairie  wonders.  Each  of  these 
two  had  been  thrown  in  childhood  much  on  themselves 
for  their  childish  amusements.  And  it  would  be  hard 
to  tell  which  of  the  two  knew  most,  or  talked  with  most 
glee,  of  the  way  in  which  they  had  hunted  bird,  beast, 
and  butterfly  ;  of  the  tramps  they  had  made  for  berries 
and  nuts,  and  varieties  of  barks  and  roots  savory  to  the 
tooth  of  childhood,  and  of  other  triumphs  of  a  g}'psy 
career.  And  it  seemed  as  if  there  were  nothing  that 
either  had  done  which  the  other  had  not  done.  When 
Oscar,  with  infinite  detail  and  infinite  fun,  told  of  a 
certain  trap,  which,  day  by  dajr,  he  had  watched  in  his 
determination  to  catch  a  particular  fry  ing-squirrel  when 
he  was  only  a  child,  Ruth  Cottam  fairty  started,  and 
she  said,  u  Are  }'ou  a  witch?  That  is  exactly  the  story 
I  was  going  to  tell  to  you." 

It  was  then  that  she  noticed  how  late  it  was  ;  and 
that,  under  the  pretext  of  amusing  the  children  by  tell 
ing  them  stories,  they  had  been  really  rehearsing,  each 
to  other,  their  own  biographies.  "  Short  exhortations  " 
and  short  farewells  sent  the  children  up  the  ladder  by 
which  they  climbed  to  bed ;  and  once  more  Oscar 
alluded  to  his  remaining  business  on  the  island,  and 
they  wondered  when  her  cousin  would  return. 

At  the  moment,  his  tall,  stout  figure  darkened  the 
light  space  left  in  the  sky  between  the  trees  ;  and  in  a 
minute  more  he  had  joined  them.  He  gave  Oscar  a 
cordial  welcome  ;  whispered  a  minute  with  Ruth  as  to 
the  best  way  to  find  the  young  man  lodging  for  the 
night ;  and,  having  solved  this  question,  proposed  to 
him  that  the}'  should  go  together  to  the  next  cabin, 
v.  here  he  knew  the  widow  Mulligan  would  be  glad  to 
entertain  him.  "  We  are  rough  folks  here,"  he  said  ; 


230  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

"  but  we  will  make  you  as  comfortable  as  we  can. 
You'd  better  come  over  here  for  }rour  breakfast,  and 
then  we  can  talk  about  the  spokes.  Did  you  say  you 
wanted  ash  for  fills  ?  "  And  so  Oscar  left  romance  and 
beauty  and  youth,  and  retired,  talking  of  the  strength 
and  seasoning  which  time  gives  to  timber. 

It  is  not  the  place  of  this  story  to  go  into  the  detail 
of  the  market  for  hard  wood  in  the  forests  of  Michigan 
and  Wisconsin.  We  may  pass  by  the  success  and  the 
failure  of  Oscar's  negotiations  for  spokes  and  for  thills, 
only  remarking  that  the}'  were  not  futile. 

The  widow  Mulligan  gave  Oscar  a  cordial  welcome, 
and  a  shake-down  on  the  floor,  and  a  heavy  comforter 
with  which  to  keep  himself  warm.  Youth,  and  the 
fatigue  and  adventure  of  his  varied  da}T,  did  the  rest ; 
and  an  unbroken  sleep  of  eight  hours  parted  Oscar's 
first  and  second  visits  to  Shadrach  Turner's  cabin. 
No !  not  one  dream.  Not  one  vision  of  pretty  Ruth 
Cottam.  It  was  as  if  she  had  no  brown  hair,  no  long 
eyelashes,  no  dark-blue  eyes  deep  set,  no  puzzled  smile, 
no  rounded  cheek,  at  once  pink  and  brown  :  it  was  as  if 
Oscar  had  not  thought  her  face,  as  she  listened  to  him, 
the  most  charming  revelation  of  possible  beaut3T.  He 
covered  himself  with  the  coverlet  that  was  given  him. 
In  his  mother's  language  he  said  the  prayer  his  mother 
taught  him,  "  Vor  Fader,"  to  the  end:  'and  then  in  a 
moment  the  gates  were  closed  on  him,  till,  as  the  sun 
rose,  the  widow  Mulligan's  cock-a-loo-loo  welcomed 
the  day,  and  Oscar  sprang  up  to  consciousness  ;  to  the 
cold  water  which  he  drew  for  himself  by  her  long  well- 
sweep  from  her  well ;  to  life,  and  to  the  joy  of  life. 
For  Oscar  was  young  and  brave  and  true,  and  knew 
how  to  live  his  utmost  in  to-day. 

Shadrach  Turner  had  bidden  him  come  to  breakfast ; 
and  to  breakfast  whore  Ruth  presided,  I  am  afraid  Oscar 
would  have  gone  even  had  he  not  been  bidden.  And 
Ruth  gave  him  a  welcome  so  pretty  !  It  was  impossible 
not  to  contrast  it  with  his  experience  of  the  morning 
before  at  Abner  Good's.  I  think  Ruth  had  slept  well 
too.  She  never  told  me.  But  they  were  all  young  and 


HARD  WOOD  LUMBER.  231 

all  happy,  and  the  log-cabins  gave  Mtfe^hance  for  car 
bonic  acid.  So  I  think  Ruth  slept  ^W»  ..And  how  was 
she  dressed?  Dear  Lily,  I  shall  notS^ll  Y<-U.  Only 
this  I  know,  —  that,  on  the  beach,  t^SSff^^y^af 
had  caught  her  the  day  before  just  as  she  was  ;  which 
means  just  as  she  happened  to  be  after  she  had  cleaned 
up  after  dinner,  and  then  taken  the  little  children,  as  by 
promise  long  before  exacted,  through  the  Burkes'  wood- 
road  to  the  shore.  For  my  part,  then  or  now,  I  would 
as  gladly  see  Ruth  at  any  moment  just  as  she  was,  as 
with  any  decorations  which  her  little  trunk  then,  or  her 
upper  bureau  drawer  now,  might  provide.  But  Ruth 
was  not  quite  of  nry  mind  ;  nay,  perhaps  is  not  at  this 
moment.  And  when  the  widow  Mulligan's  bird  of 
morning  cried  cock-a-loo-loo,  and  so  challenged  Shad- 
rach  Turner's  to  cry  cock-a-doodle-doo,  they  had  not 
wakened  Ruth.  They  had  found  her  just  tying  up  her 
bonny  brown  hair  with  her  bonny  blue  ribbon  ;  just 
turning  to  judge  the  work  of  Hiram  and  'Lonzo,  who 
had  been  starting  her  fire,  and  of  Cecilia  Susan,  who 
was  setting  the  table,  this  time  in-doors.  In  a  moment 
more  Ruth  was  in  full  line  of  battle,  as  with  these  un- 
subsidized  allies,  her  faithful  liegemen  and  damsel,  she 
"  got  breakfast ;  "  and,  probably  because  she  was  mis 
tress  of  the  position,  she  was  wholly  at  ease  when 
Master  Oscar  appeared  ;  though  she  blushed,  as  I  believe 
she  alwa}*s  did  when  she  spoke  to  anj'body,  and  won 
dered  whether  she  ought  or  ought  not  to  give  him  her 
hand. 

"  The  boys  are  too  early  for  me,"  said  Oscar.  "  Mrs. 
Mulligan  let  me  draw  her  water,  and  I  brought  Mrs. 
Good  one  of  her  buckets  full  yesterday :  but  I  see  you 
want  no  extra  watermen  here." 

No ;  the  bo3~s  declared  that  all  that  Ruth  wanted  done 
the}'  could  and  would  do.  Titus,  in  an  aside  which  was 
at  once  sheepish  and  proud,  told  Oscar  that  they  washed 
the  dishes. 

"  They  are  real  good  boys,"  said  Ruth  proudly  ;  "  and 
have  got  a  real  good  sister  too,"  she  added  care 
fully,  in  her  determination  that  Cecilia  should  not  be 


232  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

pained.  "  There  never  was  a  home  where  there  was  less 
quarrelling  and  more  work,  and  more  good  times  too,  I 
believe,  Hiram." 

And  Hiram  said  rather  clumsily  that  it  was  so  ;  and 
could  not  be  repressed  when  he  chose  to  add  that  it 
was  all  because  Ruth  had  come  to  take  care  of  them. 
All  this  time  he  went  on  in  the  preparation,  which  she 
supervised  rather  than  conducted,  for  breakfast.  And 
to  this  mutual  admiration  Shadrach  Turner  entered, 
coming  in  with  Kreuzer  from  the  humble  slab-barn 
where  they  had  been  pitching  down  the  breakfast  for 
the  cattle,  and  preparing  for  them  their  substitute  for 
hot  coffee.  Turner  with  his  voice,  and  Kreuzer  silently, 
bade  the  .young  man  good-morning  ;  and  they  sat  down 
to  breakfast,  and  to  the  renewed  discussion  of  whiffle- 
trees,  thills,  and  spokes,  of  ash  and  hickory ;  and  not 
only  of  the  qualities  of  the  wood,  but  of  the  qualities 
of  the  men  who,  it  was  supposed,  could  furnish  it. 
Once  and  again  Turner  appealed  to  Ruth  in  this  talk, 
as  if,  in  her  dealings  with  school-committee-men  and 
fathers,  she  might  have  taken  the  measure  of  some  of 
the  new-comers  on  the  South  Point,  as  he  had  had  no 
opportunity  to  do ;  and  Oscar  found,  that,  in  her 
rambles  with  the  children,  Ruth  knew  the  various  high 
ways  and  by-wa}rs  of  the  island  quite  as  well  as  her 
cousin  did. 

Oscar  was  not  new  to  log-cabin  life.  But  he  had,  in 
person,  seen  it  only  in  the  old  Norwegian  forms,  as  his 
fat  her,  and  his  father's  friends,  transferred  them  from 
the  Old  World  to  the  New.  The  Norwegian  at  home 
lives  in  wooden  houses  as  does  the  American  settler. 
His  log-cabin  in  Norway  looks  to  the  eye  unaccustomed 
to  it,  exactly  like  the  log-cabin  of  a  Western  pioneer. 
Once  and  a^ain,  in  the  broken  life  of  his  boyhood,  Oscar 
li;;<l  made  his  home  in  such  a  cabin.  But  there  were 
details  Unit  were  new  to  Oscar.  As  he  turned  to  Ruth 
to  hear  some  story  by  which  she  illustrated  the  character 
of  an  old  fisherman  at  the  South  Point,  he  saw  that 
Master  Titus's  eyes  were  growing  round  with  satisfac 
tion  ;  and  in  a  moment  more  he  saw  the  reason,  which 


HARD  WOOD  LUMBER.  233 

had  been  screened  from  him  till  now.  He  knew  that 
Cecilia  was  busy  at  the  fire  behind  him  ;  but  he  had  not 
heeded  the  sound  there.  The  enlargement  of  Titus's 
eyes  was  some  signal  that  her  preparations  were 
ended.  In  a  moment  more,  there  fell  before  Os 
car's  astonished  gaze  something  upon  the  empty 
platter  before  him,  which  he  saw  was  what  in  Detroit 
they  called  a  flapjack.  With  a  ready  and  skilful 
hand,  Cecilia  had  whirled  this  from  her  griddle  with 
such  precision  that  it  flew  through  the  air,  over  his  head, 
upon  the  dish  which  lay  ready  for  it.  With  all  Oscar's 
savoir  faire,  which  seemed,  indeed,  to  come  naturally  to 
him,  he  found  it  difficult  not  to  start  at  the  suddenness 
of  the  fall.  The  children,  and  the  rest,  however,  all 
took  it  as  matter  of  course.  Another  followed,  and 
another.  They  were  removed  to  one  and  another  plate 
almost  as  rapidly  as  they  fell.  A  rapid  consumption 
of  this  manna  from  heaven,  as,  when  it  fell,  it  seemed 
to  Oscar,  reinforced  by  the  presence  of  wild  raspberry, 
which  is  one  of  the  native  dishes  of  these  regions,  and 
the  maple-sugar,  which  takes  the  place  of  all  other 
sugar,  closed  the  morning  meal. 

Then  followed  a  day  which  Oscar  always  looked  back 
upon  as  a  day  of  singular  and  blessed  good  fortune. 
Turner  gave  him  all  the  information  he  could  about  men 
with  whom  it  was  well  to  discuss  hard  wood.  But 
Turner  himself  could  give  nothing  more.  He  must  use 
every  hour  of  the  day  with  a  party  of  men  who  were  at 
work  in  repairs  on  the  steamboat-wharf ;  and  the  boat 
down  the  lake  from  Chicago  and  Milwaukie  was  due 
that  afternoon.  Before  she  came,  the  wharf  must  be 
read}7.  The  boats,  as  has  been  already  said,  were  then 
accustomed  to  stop  for  wood  at  the  island.  But  Tur 
ner  intimated  to  Ruth,  very  readily,  that  all  Oscar 
would  need  was  guidance  to  one  and  another  of  the 
outlying  points  of  the  island,  where  he  could  see  one 
and  another  of  those  men  of  whom  he  had  been  telling. 
For  means  of  communication,  the  island  had  little  to 
boast ;  but  such  as  there  was  was  placed  at  Oscar's  dis 
posal  :  and  so  it  was  that  he  spent  most  of  that  Sep- 


234  UPS  AND  DOWN'S. 

tember  day  threading  the  woodlands  of  the  Little 
Manito,  with  this  }Toung  girl  for  a  guide,  j'csterduy 
such  a  stranger,  and  to-day  one  of  the  oldest  and  near 
est  of  his  friends. 

There  was  resemblance  enough  in  their  history  to 
compel  each  to  sympathize  with  the  other,  as,  indeed, 
each  understood  the  other  when  words  were  only  half 
spoken.  Each  of  them,  though  each  was  so  young,  had 
seen  a  mother  die,  and  a  father.  Each  of  them,  almost 
from  childhood,  had  been  without  a  fixed  home.  Each 
of  them  had  known  what  it  was  to  gnaw  very  close  to 
the  bone.  And,  again,  each  of  them  was  now  in  com 
parative  comfort,  in  what  each  thought  luxury,  under 
the  care  and  protection  of  a  loyal,  manly  friend.  And 
then  appeared  the  inevitable  distinction.  Oscar's  am 
bition,  though  it  hardty  expressed  itself  in  words,  was 
the  wish,  if  only  he  might  work  it  out,  that  he  might 
be  independent  in  fortune  and  position,  so  that  he  could 
take  care  of  Mr.  Jasper,  and  keep  Mr.  Jasper  from  anx 
iety,  and  save  Mr.  Jasper  from  the  necessit}T  of  work 
which  he  thought  wore  on  him.  The  boy  had  found 
out  already  that  Jasper  had  not  the  native  instinct  for 
money-making.  But  Ruth,  though  she  hardly  dropped 
a  word  of  this,  was,  as  clearly,  glad  to  be  under  Shad- 
rach  Turner's  wing  ;  glad  she  could  help  his  children  ; 
glad  she  had  him  to  turn  to  when  the  Committee  was 
unreasonable  ;  glad  she  was  not  what  Oscar  called  inde 
pendent  in  the  world.  Of  these  similarities  and  con 
trasts  they  said  next  to  nothing ;  nay,  they  thought 
nothing  at  all.  They  talked  about  what  was  round 
them,  —  about  the  men  Oscar  dealt  with,  or  their  chil 
dren  ;  about  the  varieties  in  the  shrubs  and  trees  of  the 
forest ;  for  both  of  them  were  pure  Aryans,  and  as  keen 
MS  Indians  in  their  quest  of  leaf,  beny,  and  lichen. 
Oscar  paraded  before  Ruth  some  of  the  marvels  of 
Jasper's  botanical  lore.  Ruth  told  Oscar  of  mysteries 
in  fibre  and  cell  which  she  had  learned  from  Sacs  and 
J-'<>\i's  and  ChippewHs,  —  mysteries  which  had  never 
got  themselves  written  down  in  Master  Jasper's  learn 
ing.  Ah  me  !  what  a  happy  day  it  was  !  How  soon  — 


HARD  WOOD  LUMBEE.  235 

all  too  soon  —  did  the  long  shadows  come  again  !  The 
spokes  were  ordered ;  the  whiffle-trees  were  ordered : 
but  he  had  found  nothing  fit  for  thills.  The  last  ex 
cuse  for  staying  had  been  pumped  dry  :  and  poor  Oscar 
stood  on  the  finished  wharf  with  the  faithful  little 
valise,  and  the  umbrella  which  Ruth  had  mended  ;  with 
a  group  of  the  children  and  their  friends ;  with  Shad- 
rach  Turner  and  with  Ruth  herself. 

The  steamboat  rounded  into  the  little  cove  ;  and  hands 
only  too  quick,  from  island  and  from  boat,  here  wheeled, 
and  there  threw,  the  wood  upon  her  decks.  It  was  all 
done  too  soon.  The  boys  scrambled  on  board  with 
Oscar's  modest  luggage,  and  he  bade  his  friends  good- 

by. 

"  I  shall  write  to  you,  if  you  will  let  me,"  said  he. 

"  Oh.  certainly  !  "  said  Ruth  ;  and  the  long  eyelashes 
fell  on  her  cheek  again  as  she  looked  down.  This  was  the 
last  word.  "  All  aboard  !  "  said  Capt.  Peleg  ;  and  Oscar 
hurried  across  the  gang-plank,  which  was  withdrawn  in 
a  moment,  and  the  boat  swung  off  from  shore.  He 
kissed  his  hand :  Ruth  waved  hers ;  and  this  was  all. 


236  UPS  AND  DOWN'S. 


CHAPTER    XXIII. 

SHALL  WE   GO   ON? 

TASPER  was  sorry  to  see  Oscar  back  so  soon :  but 
**  he  could  not  but  see  that  his  little  voyages,  his  ad 
ventures,  such  as  they  were,  his  success  in  all  he  had 
attempted,  had  done  the  boy  good  ;  had  lifted  him  out 
of  the  rut,  the  routine,  of  convalescence  ;  and  had  given 
t9  him  the  start  which  the  careful  and  wise  doctor  had 
sought  for.  Oscar  "  told  his  times,"  —  told  them  in 
detail  sufficiently  precise  to  satisfy  even  Jasper's  de 
mands.  Jasper  was  well  pleased  to  hear  of  dear  old 
Capt.  Zadock,  and  that  Oscar  had  arranged  that  he 
should  come  and  see  them  at  the  factory.  The  name, 
and  the  stories  tied  to  it,  waked  up  slumbering  wishes 
of  his  that  they  might  both  go  back  to  Duquesne,  and 
start  again  the  enterprises  which  had  given  way  before 
the  ruthless  fire,  and  the  more  ruthless  "  smart  man  of 
business." 

But  Jasper  had  other  ravages  to  repair  besides  those 
of  Duquesne.  The  carriage-shop  had  been  closed  now 
for  nearly  three  months.  Both  his  partners  were  dead, 
—  the  two  men  whose  knowledge  of  the  business  had 
given  to  their  work  much  of  its  reputation.  Every 
workman  whom  they  had  employed  had  left  Detroit. 
Actually,  as  Oscar  stood  with  him  in  the  counting-room, 
IK-  and  Jasper  were  the  only  two  representatives  left  in 
that  city  of  that  busy  throng,  who  so  little  while  ago 
had  been  at  work,  within  sight  or  sound.  In  this  wreck 
what  was  Jasper  to  do?  Was  he  to  build  up  another 
c:tm:i  go- factory  out  of  nothing?  That  reminded  him 
too  much  of  Theo  Brown's  old  bon-mot,  about  women's 
beginning  of  stockings.  Theo  said,  "  They  made  be- 


SHALL  WE  GO  ON?  237 

lieve  once  round,  and  then  knit  into  that."  Even  the 
rent  of  the  premises  expired  in  October.  Such  orders 
as  the}'  had,  fewer  it  seemed  than  usual,  they  had  had 
to  turn  over  to  firms  in  other  cities,  because  they  could 
not  pretend  to  execute  them.  Fortunately  there  were 
almost  no  debts,  —  nothing  but  what  would  be  paid  at 
maturity  by  the  funds  which  Jasper  was  daily  collecting 
from  their  own  customers  as  they  settled  their  accounts 
with  him.  On  the  other  hand,  however,  the  smart  men 
of  business,  who  were  looking  out  for  Mrs.  Dundas's 
rights  and  Mrs.  Buffum's,  were  asking-  what  arrange 
ments  he  was  making  for  paying  over  their  shares  in 
the  firm,  which,  as  the  reader  knows,  had  but  just  en 
tered  on  its  existence.  Not  a  very  simple  nor  a  very 
agreeable  outlook  for  Jasper. 

He  did  what  in  such  a  crash  it  is  wise  to  do  :  he  re 
verted  to  first  principles.  How  came  he  to  be  a  car 
riage-builder  at  all  ?  Answer  :  He"  had  had  this  oppor- 
tunit}T  to  train  Oscar  to  independence  ;  and  he  had  used 
it.  He  had  found,  at  the  same  time,  that  he  and  Buffum 
and  Dnndas  could  each  of  them  lend  a  hand  to  the  other  ; 
and  he  had  taken  that  opportunity.  It  was  clear  enough 
to  him,  that  by  honest  work,  and  loyal  following-up  of 
opportunities,  he  and  they  had  made  a  business,  which, 
if  he  could  hold  to  it  five  years  more  with  the  same  ad 
vantages,  would  open  before  him  everything  he  wanted. 
He  would  be  subduing  the  world  in  an  honorable  place. 
That  is  the  first  thing  a  man  should  ask.  He  would 
see  Oscar  succeeding ;  he  would  be  in  a  position  to  sup 
port  a  family,  if,  alas !  he  had  one  to  support,  which 
wras  now  impossible ;  and  he  could  do  by  the  Public, 
by  the  State  and  Church,  by  the  People,  what  to  State 
and  Church,  which  is  to  say,  to  the  People,  each  man 
owes.  All  this  the  j^oung  man  saw.  But  the  five 
years  had  not  passed,  and  the  opportunity  was  gone. 

Jasper's  decision  was  probably  wise.  Wise  or  fool 
ish,  it  was  this :  He  would  not  attempt  single-handed 
to  carry  the  enterprise  forward  which  had  needed  the 
best  work  of  all  three  of  them.  Ordinarily  he  hated 
partnerships  with  that  aversion  with  which  most -men 


238  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

of  strong  individuality  regard  them.  But  he  determined, 
that  if  he  could  find,  with  reasonable  inquiry,  some 
man  who  would  replace  Dundas  in  his  constructive 
ability,  and  should  have  some  measure  of  the  admirable 
good  sense  of  that  man,  —  some  man,  that  is,  who 
would  not  be  afraid  to  work,  and  to  lead  other  work 
men,  and  who  knew  enough  to  command  their  respect 
as  he  did  so,  —  if  he  could  find  such  a  man  who  would 
be  his  partner,  he  would  go  on.  Or  if  he  could  find  any 
man  who  wanted  to  trust  ten  or  twenty  thousand 
dollars  in  a  partnership  with  Jasper,  himself  being  a 
sleeping  partner,  so  that  Jasper  might  with  some  confi 
dence  reorganize  his  own  establishment,  with  a  respon 
sible  foreman  at  the  head  of  each  department,  —  with 
such  a  partner  he  would  go  on.  But  if  neither  of  these 
men  appeared,  on  reasonable  inquiry,  he  would  take  it 
for  granted  that  the  decision  of  a  wise  Providence  was 
against  his  going  farther  in  the  art,  craft,  and  mystery 
of  carriage-building.  This  decision  of  Jasper's  was 
probably  wise.  Wise  or  foolish,  as  has  been  said,  it 
was  that  on  which  he  acted  ;  and,  when  Oscar  returned, 
he  found  Jasper  awaiting  the  results  of  his  first  eiforts 
in  cariying  it  forward. 

Jasper  had  written  first  to  a  man  named  Croffut, 
whom  he  had  seen  at  Cleveland,  who  was,  jn  a  small 
way,  carrying  on  the  carriage-building  business  there. 
He  had  proposed  to  him  that  he  should  remove  his  little 
establishment  to  Detroit,  and  that  the}"  should  form  a 
new  firm  together,  to  take  advantage  of  the  well-estab- 
lishcd  reputation  of  Buffum,  Rising,  &  Dundas.  He 
was  awaiting  Croffut's  decision  as  to  this  proposal. 
He  was  also  awaiting  a  letter  from  Asaph  Ferguson, 
his  old  class-mate  and  cron}-.  Jasper  believed  in 
friendship:  he  was  right  there.  He  believed  in  the 
advice  of  friends,  whether  it  encouraged  or  discouraged  ; 
and  lie  believed  three  men  could  pull  out  from  a  hole 
in  1  he  ice  better  than  one:  he  was  right  there  again. 
He  therefore  wrote  a  long  letter  to  Ferguson,  in  which 
he  told  the  story  of  the  success  of  his  carriage-building, 
and  of  its  crisis  in  the  cholera  ;  showed  him  how  he 


SHALL  WE  GO  ON?  239 

must  begin  all  over  again ;  and  told  him  of  his  two 
plans.  In  one  of  the  plans,  he  said  he  had  made  this 
proposal  to  Croffut.  Suppose  this  failed,  did  Asaph 
think  that  any  of  the  old  set  would  like  to  enter  into 
carriage-building  in  the  West  to  the  tune  of  ten  or 
twenty  thousand  dollars,  if  he,  Jasper,  took  the  enter 
prise  in  charge? 

To  these  letters  Jasper  was  awaiting  answers  when 
Oscar  came  home  with  his  tidings.  Oscar  and  he  dairy 
opened  the  shops.  Jasper  hired  one  or  two  workmen, 
and  mended  a  smashed  buggy  when  one  was  brought 
in,  and  took  care  of  other  job-work.  He  confirmed 
Oscar's  Manito  bargains ;  but  he  made  no  other  con 
tracts  for  stock. 

Ferguson's  letter  had  ten  times  as  far  to  go  as  Crof- 
fut's.  That  was  not  the  reason  it  came  sooner  ;  but  it 
did  come  sooner.  The  reason  it  came  sooner  was,  that 
Ferguson,  having  fifty  letters  to  write  every  day,  wrote 
them  ;  while  Croffut,  having  one  to  write  every  month, 
put  it  off.  Ferguson's  letter  savored  of  the  old  times. 

NEW  YORK,  SEPT.  29. 

DEAR  BOY,  —  I  have  your  letter  ;  have  read  it  care 
fully,  and  understand  it.  The  thing  seems  reasonable. 
I  cannot  help  you  ;  but  I  think  I  know  who  can. 

Still,  it  requires  lots  of  talk  and  arrangement ;  and 
it  would  be  worth  eveiything  if  3'ou  could  meet  my 
man.  Can  you  not  come  on  here  at  once,  and  see  me 
and  him?  I  say  at  once,  because  I  sail  for  Europe  on 
or  about  the  fifteenth  in  this  tangled  affair  about  the 
hemp  invoices.  Unless  you  can  come,  I  do  not  see  how 
I  can  do  anything. 
Come ! 

As  always,  yours, 

ASAPH  FERGUSON. 

This  looked  well.  Of  course  it  was  not  certain.  But 
Jasper  told  Oscar  that  he  thought  he  should  go.  lie 
waited  a  day  or  two  for  Croffut's  answer  still.  Jf  Crof 
fut  were  willing  to  go  on,  he  had  rather  have  a  working 


240  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

partner  than  a  sleeping  one ;  but,  if  Croffut  were  not 
willing  to  go  on,  he  should  go  and  see  Ferguson.  Jas 
per  explained  evcrj'thing  to  Oscar  in  all  their  affairs. 
It  did  him  good,  indeed,  to  see  if  his  notions  on  any 
subject  were  definite  enough  to  be  stated  in  sentences, 
with  nominative  cases,  governing  verbs,  and  verbs 
obeying  submissively. 

Three  days  he  waited,  and  no  answer  came.  On  the 
fourth  day  he  went  as  far  as  Cleveland,  and  saw  Croffut. 
Croffut  had  written  his  letter  that  morning,  and  was 
going  to  take  it  to  the  post-office  as  he  went  home  that 
night.  He  had  written  to  say  that  he  could  not  see  his 
way  clear  to  move  to  Detroit ;  and  Jasper  found  that 
his  opinions  were  definite,  and  he  could  not  move  him. 

The  same  night  there  arrived  at  Detroit  this  letter 
from  Asaph : — 

NEW  YORK,  OCT.  2. 

DEAR  JASPER,  —  Come  at  once,  if  at  all.  I  sail  on 
the  tenth.  I  have  seen  the  Chinaman,  and  I  think  it 
will  go  well ;  but  he  wants  to  see  you,  and  I  want  you 
to  see  him. 

In  haste,  alwaj^s  j^ours, 

ASAPH  FERGUSON. 

This  letter  Oscar  opened.  In  those  days,  however, 
the  telegraph  was  not  working  between  Detroit  and 
Cleveland ;  and  Oscar  could  only  hope  Jasper  would 
go  on. 

Jasper  did  go  on  ;  not  as  he  would  have  gone  now,  — 
leaving  Cleveland  one  day,  to  be  in  Ne\v  York  the  next, 
—  but  by  a  system  which  men  then  thought  rapid,  but 
which  we  think  slow  and  cumbrous,  —  steamboat  here, 
trains  there,  no  very  close  connections  anywhere.  None 
the  less,  travelling  night  and  day,  did  Jasper  arrive  in 
New  York  in  time  to  find  that  Asaph  had  left  that 
morning  for.  Boston.  lie  had  left  word  that  Mr.  Rising 
was  to  be  told  that  he  would  be  back  on  the  eighth,  and 
could  attend  to  their  business  before  sailing.  And  so 
Jasper,  at  the  critical  moment  of  his  life,  when  time 


SHALL  WE  GO  ON?  241 

was  of  the  greatest  consequence  to  him,  or  seemed  so 
to  him,  was  left  to  kick  his  heels,  wholl}r  without  occu 
pation,  and  almost  without  friends,  in  one  of  the  great 
cities  of  the  world.  He  did  find  up  a  few  of  the  old 
class ;  or,  rather,  he  found  where  their  offices  were 
when  the  last  directory  was  issued.  But  they  had  all 
moved .  since,  and  no  one  knew  where  they  had  moved 
to.  He  called  on  Mrs.  Van  Braam,  whom  he  remem 
bered  as  Rose  Cornell  at  Cambridge :  she  was  in  the 
country.  He  went  to  the  theatre  every  night,  and  tried 
to  be  amused.  But  never  did  Jasper  know  as  he  knew 
now  that  a  day  is  made  up  of  twenty-four  hours,  and 
that  each  hour  is  made  of  sixty  very  slow  minutes. 

At  last,  Asaph  Ferguson  came  home.  The  hemp 
business  was  involved,  —  terribly  involved.  Would 
Jasper  go  to  Russia  with  him  ?  There  was  quite  enough 
for  both  of  them  to  do.  Ah  me  !  when  Jasper  remem 
bered  who  was  in  Hamburg,  or  as  near  it  as  Lauenburg, 
here  was  a  strain.  But  he  said  No.  And,  in  all  the 
anxiety  and  worry  of  the  preparations  for  a  departure 
which  might  cover  j'ears,  Asaph  never  one  moment  for 
got.  He  saw  the  rather  sensitive  friend  whom  he  had 
sounded  about  the  investment  in  carriage-building.  He 
went  with  Jasper  to  see  him  by  appointment ;  but,  when 
they  arrived,  Mr.  Williams  was  engaged,  —  was  very 
much  engaged.  Would  Mr.  Rising  name  a  time  when 
Mr.  Williams  could  see  him  the  next  da}-  ?  Of  course 
Jasper  said  one  time  was  like  another  for  him.  Mr. 
Williams  was  sensitive,  and  was  particular.  He  would 
not  put  Mr.  Rising  to  any  trouble :  he  would  call  on 
him  at  his  lodgings.  And  Jasper,  seeing  that  he  was 
in  earnest  in  his  punctilio,  named  nine  o'clock  on  the 
morning  of  the  tenth  as  the  time  when  he  would  receive 
him  at  the  hotel. 

"  That  is  settled,"  said  Asaph  as  they  left.  "  He  is 
fussy  ;  but  he  likes  you  :  I  could  see  that  in  a  moment. 
He  will  give  you  the  capital.  Fay  him  ten  per  cent,  a 
year  on  it  when  you  are  prospered,  and  tell  him  the 
truth  when  you  are  not  prospered,  and  he  will  ask  noth 
ing  more.  A  queer  man,  but  true." 
16 


242  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

Still,  when  nine  o'clock  approached  the  next  day,  Jas 
per  was  a  little  more  nervous  than  he  liked  to  be.  Just 
before  nine  he  went  to  the  office  of  his  hotel  to  sa}^  that, 
if  Mr.  Williams  called  to  see  him,  he  should  be  found  in 
the  smaller  sitting-room. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  the  indifferent  potentate,  who  seemed 
to  have  left  an  old  Russian  barony  that  day  to  amuse 
himself  for  half  an  hour  with  playing  at  clerk  in  an 
inn. 

Jasper  was  not  wholly  pleased  with  the  indifference 
displayed,  and  loitered  a  moment.  "  Mr.  Williams  is 
an  elderly  man,  —  gray-haired,  —  not  very  strong.  Let 
one  of  the  boys  show  him  into  the  small  sitting-room." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  as  before,  with  such  indifference  as  I  be 
lieve  barons  do  not  show. 

And  Jasper  retired  to  his  small  parlor. 

Precisely  at  nine,  Mr.  Williams' s  carriage  stopped  at 
the  hotel  entrance  ;  and,  with  his  rather  halting  step,  he 
came  up  the  hall,  his  card  in  hand. 

"  Will  you  send  this  to  Mr.  Rising  of  Detroit,  —  Mr. 
Jasper  Rising?  " 

The  disguised  baron  looked  his  unconcealed  amaze 
ment  that  any  such  proposal  should  be  made  to  him. 
He  turned  to  an  amny  of  strips  of  paper  at  his  side, 
and  said,  "  Mr.  Rising  is  not  here :  he  left  before  light 
this  morning." 

"  I  think  you  are  mistaken,"  said  the  courtly  invalid. 
"  I  have  an  appointment  with  Mr.  Rising  at  nine." 

"  No  mistake,  sir  ;  no  mistake  of  ours.  John,  take 
that  basket  up  to  134.  Patrick,  say  that  77's  carriage 
is  waiting.  Michael,  take  these  cards  to  410." 

Mr.  Williams  waited.  "  Please  send  to  Mr.  Rising's 
room.  I  think  he  is  expecting  me." 

"  I  tell  you  Mr.  Rising  has  left  the  house,"  said  the 
baron  in  anger,  before  which  even  Mr.  Williams  did  not 
think  it  proper  to  stand.  lie  walked  through  the  read 
ing-room,  looked  into  the  larger  parlors,  did  not  know 
of  the  SHIM  Her  room  where  Jasper  was  sitting  nervous, 
and  went  hack  to  his  carriage,  annoyed,  and  gradually 
provoked,  by  the  young  man's  inattention  to  business. 


SHALL  WE  GO  ON?  243 

Jasper  waited  a  full  hour.  He  knew  Mr.  Williams's 
health  was  delicate,  and  he  kept  saying  to  himself  that 
beggars  should  not  be  choosers.  The  last  half  of  this 
hour  he  spent  in  the  great  hall  of  the  hotel,  where,  if  he 
had  been  wise,  he  would  have  spent  the  whole  of  it. 
Once  and  again  he  asked  if  no  one  had  inquired  for  him. 
But  by  this  time  another  nobleman  was  behind  the  coun 
ter,  who  told  him  that  no  one  had  called.  At  ten,  Jas 
per  left  word  in  writing  that  he  had  gone  to  Mr. 
Williams's  office.  Arrived  there,  he  found  he  had  come 
and  gone :  in  fact,  he  had  gone  to  the  steamship  to  bid 
Asaph  farewell,  —  where  Jasper  did  not  dare  follow 
him.  Jasper  rushed  back  to  the  hotel.  A  gentleman 
had  called,  and  had  left  no  name.  "  Was  he  gray- 
haired,  and  delicate  ? "  No :  he  had  red  hair,  and 
weighed  three  hundred  pounds.  Jasper  again  waited 
till  one,  not  daring  to  desert  his  post.  He  went  down 
again  to  Mr.  Williams's  office  ;  but  that  gentleman  had 
returned  to  his  country-seat  in  Jerse}',  not  quite  well. 

Jasper  called  at  that  office  for  some  successive  days 
in  vain.  Finalty  he  wrote  a  short  note,  explaining  that 
he  was  disappointed  in  missing  any  meeting,  and  ask 
ing  for  another  interview.  But  some  cloud  had  come 
over  the  invalid's  mind.  This  was  the  answer :  — 

"  Mr.  Nathan  Williams  has  Mr.  Rising's  note  of  the 
13th.  Mr.  Williams  will  not  trouble  Mr.  Rising  far 
ther.  He  has  determined  not  to  make  any  investments 
in  the  West  at  present." 


244  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 


CHAPTER    XXIV. 

HOME    AGAIN. 

"T3ERTHA  sailed  down  the  river  on  the  Hamburg 
packet ;  and  her  father  tried  to  quicken  her  inter 
est  in  the  Tower,  the  Observatory  at  Greenwich,  the 
forests  of  masts,  the  colliers,  the  fishermen,  and  the 
rest :  but  poor  Bertha,  with  her  best  effort,  could  not 
pretend  to  a  great  deal,  and  at  last  persuaded  her 
lather  to  join  some  German  compatriots,  who  were  on 
the  deck,  and  to  let  her  go  below  and  lie  down.  Lie 
down, — that  was  easy  enough.  Sleep  or  forget, — 
that  was  impossible.  Had  she  done  anything  wrong? 
Had  she  in  an}T  wa}T  made  this  kind,  good  Dr.  Farquhar 
think  she  liked  him  otherwise  than  as  she  did?  She 
did  like  him.  She  liked  him  extremely,  and  his  dear, 
dear  mother.  Why  did  not  she  love  him  as  he  loved 
her,  and  as  he  wanted  her  to  love  him?  "Was  there 
one  element  in  an}'  girl's  ideal  of  a  man  which  he  did 
not  have,  and  have  in  large  measure?  lie  was  accom 
plished  ;  he  was  modest ;  he  was  unselfish  and  brave ; 
he  was  good ;  he  was  kind  to  his  mother ;  he  was  re 
ligious,  she  knew  that ;  he  was  not  pretentious  ;  he  \vas 
eminently  entertaining,  and  made  you  know  your  own 
best  qualities  ;  and  he  was  never  instructive,  never  die- 
tutorial,  never  prosy.  Had  she  ever,  when  she  w:is  a 
school-girl,  dreamed  of  a  more  heroic  hero,  or  of  an 
offer  of  marriage  which  embodied  more  which  was  de 
sirable,  or  even  delightful?  And  yet,  to  the  very  end 
of  her  fingers,  and  in  the  bottom  of  her  heart, 
she  was  sorry  that  this  noble  fellow  had  made,  to 
her  thj,s  oiler,  and  was  cross-questioning  herself  as 
to  whether  she  had  done  anything  in  the  matter 


HOME  AGAIN.  245 

which  she  ought  not  to  have  done,  or  whether  she 
had  left  undone  anything  that  she  ought  to  have  done. 
She  had,  too,  to  face  the  further  question,  —  which  the 
reader  has  answered  for  her,  perhaps,  but  which  she  had 
not  answered  for  herself.  Why  did  she  set  aside  so 
summarily  this  proposal  so  manly,  offering  to  her  a 
home  so  attractive?  Because  she  did  -not  love  him, — 
that  was  plain  enough.  But  how  did  she  know  so  per 
fect!  j"  well  that  she  did  not  love  him  ?  All  he  asked 
for  was  a  chance  to  make  her  love  him,  a  chance  to 
show  her,  man-fashion,  what  manner  of  man  he  was, 
and  whether  he  were  not  worth  loving.  Then,  }'ou  see, 
came  questions  that  Bertha  did  not  like  to  face.  And 
I  am  not  sure  that  she  did  face  them  all.  She  did  not 
pretend  that  it  was  her  passion  for  home  that  made  her 
renounce  London.  She  knew  perfectly  well  that  she 
liked  London  better  than  Boston  ;  and  she  knew  it  wras 
very  likely  that  she  would  spend  }rears  of  life  away 
from  home :  that  was  her  destiny,  as  it  was  the  destiny 
of  any  governess.  No :  poor,  dear  child,  she  would 
not  answer  her  question  to  herself;  but,  as  she  lay 
there  in  that  must}',  snuff}'  berth,  the  only  intervals  of 
quiet  thought  were  those  in  which  there  came  back  old 
happy  pictures,  —  how  Mr.  Rising  took  care  of  her  and 
her  mother  in  the  great  basket-stores  ;  how  she  waltzed 
with  Mr.  Rising  in  Milwaukie ;  how  she  blessed  God 
for  finding  a  home  and  a  duty  for  her  in  the  hospital  at 
Detroit ;  and  of  that  lovely  sail  upon  the  river  the 
last  day  when  she  was  there.  Such  pictures  came  up  ; 
and,  for  the  minute,  it  rested  her  to  look  upon  them  in 
the  close  berth  of  the  fetid  state-room.  And  then  she 
would  shudder  to  recollect  that  she  must  not  be  looking 
back  on  such  things ;  she  must  think  how  she  would 
answer  Dr.  Farquhar's  manly  letter :  and,  oh,  dear ! 
she  must  be  facing  her  perplexities  again  :  in  two  da}rs 
more  she  must  be  landing  their  luggage,  without  any 
Dr.  Farqnhar  now,  and  must  be  taking  care  of  dear, 
dreamy  father ;  must  be  finding  her  way  to  Lauenburg 
as  best  she  might ;  and,  all  the  time,  he  must  not  know 
what  a  weight  it  was  she  was  carrying  at  her  heart. 


246  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

Poor  Bertha  !  Is  the  whole  world,  then,  a  stage  ;  and 
has  she  nothing  to. do  in  it  but  to  be  acting  a  part? 

A  rough,  tumbling  passage.  Fog  and  head-winds,  — 
lying  to  in  a  gale,  because  we  are  afraid  to  run  on  in 
those  narrow  seas.  But  the  worst  comes  to  an  end  at 
last ;  and  Bertha  is  landed  again  in  her  own  land  :  and 
of  all  the  people  in  Hamburg  there  is  not  one  who 
feels  so  thoroughly  a  stranger  as  does  she.  Her  poor 
father  himself  did  not  feel  much  more  at  home.  Since 
she  left  home,  the  great  fire  had  ravaged  Hamburg  ter 
ribly  ;  and  the  rebuilding  had  changed  it  in  just  the 
regions  he  knew  best.  As  it  happened,  also,  the  par 
ticular  Friedriohs  and  "Wilhelms  whom  he  meant  to  see 
and  confer  with  were  out  of  town,  or  had  moved  their 
habitats,  so  that  he  could  not  easily  find  them.  It 
mattered  the  less,  because  the  steamer  had  landed  in 
the  morning ;  and  father  and  daughter  both  were  de 
termined  to  go  up  to  Lauenburg  without  a  moment  of 
unnecessary  delay  in  the  great  city. 

Yet  here  was  one  of  the  fancies  in  the  mind  of  the 
returned  exile  which  Bertha  had  to  submit  to,  —  not 
unwillingly  indeed.  He  was  most  eager  to  surprise 
them  all  in  Lauenburg,  which  was  not  difficult  in  fact, 
as  no  one  knew  by  what  packet  they  would  leave  Lon 
don.  To  surprise  them,  of  course,  he  must  go  up  as 
promptly  as  he  might :  it  is  some  ten  miles  (of  ours) 
from  Hamburg  to  Lauenburg ;  and  every  peasant  he 
had  recognized  in  the  market  that  morning  would  be 
retailing  at  night  the  news  that  Max  Schwarz  and  his 
daughter  had  come  home.  On  the  other  hand,  he  could 
not  bear  to  go  home  by  any  way  than  the  way  he  left 
home.  He  had  come  down  the  Elbe  on  one  of  the 
Olid-lander  boats  ;  and  he  wanted  to  take  Bertha  back 
the  same  way.  No  man  should  say  he  was  purse- 
proud  because  he  had  come  home  a  nabob.  He  and 
his  had  bidden  good-by  to  the  little  town  as  the}' 
stepped  across  from  the  quay  into  the  boat;  and  there, 
please  Cod.  he  would  welcome  the  little  town  again. 
?>o\\ ,  an  Oberlander  boat  docs  not  go  up  the  Elbe  so 
swiftly  or  so  easily  as  she  comes  down.  But  Bertha 


HOME  AGALY.  247 

had  known,  since  the  vc^age  from  ^jrfftica  began,  that 
her  father's  heart  was  set  on  this  nio^gt^etuni  to  his 
home ;  and  she  was  well  pleased  to  nn^feaL^with  a 
little  delay,  his  wishes  could  be  met :  she  was  more 
pleased,  when,  with  bag  and  baggage,  they  were  safely 
on  board  the  queer  craft,  and,  with  a  fresh,  favorable 
breeze,  were  speeding  home,  —  as  they  began  to  call  it 
once  more,  —  up  the  current  of  the  noble  river :  she 
was  most  pleased  when  they  arrived. 

Nobody  at  the  landing  whom  the}'  knew.  That  was 
forlorn  and  queer.  The}'  came  to  the  house  through 
streets  which  were  perfectly  familiar  to  Bertha,  but 
which  now  looked  absurdly  short  and  small.  At  the 
door  of  the  house,  some  sort  of  wandering  piper,  or 
neighborhood  musician,  was  whistling  awa}r  on  his 
rude  clarinet :  barefoot  he  stood,  with  his  boots  hang 
ing  over  his  back  for  uses  more  important  than  travel 
in  the  village-streets.  Eager  in  front  of  him  were  a 
cloud  of  little  folks,  some  of  whom  Bertha  knew  must 
be  cousins,  —  two  little  girls  hardly  big  enough  to  be 
intrusted  with  a  baby-sister,  —  and  on  a  bench  by  the 
door  Bertha's  own  grandmother,  and  a  little  boy  rest 
ing  on  her  arm,  almost  as  his  own  puppy  was  resting 
on  him.  In  the  door-wa}-,  and  behind  the  garden-fence, 
but  leaning  over  it,  were  the  father  and  mother  of  the 
family,  —  her  mother's  brother  and  his  wife.  All  par 
ties  were  so  much  amused  by  the  delight  with  which 
the  three  little  girls  listened  to  the  piper,  that  no  one, 
not  even  the  children,  observed  the  approach  of  the 
American  relations. 

Bertha's  father  pushed  her  forward,  loitering  just  be 
hind  in  the  humor  of  the  occasion.  And  Bertha,  who 
remembered  her  grandmother  perfectly,  touched  her 
slightly,  so  as  to  call  her  attention,  and  said  in  Eng 
lish,  u  I  beg  your  pardon,  but  can  you  tell  me  where 
Friedrich  Baum  lives?"  She  knew  that  the  old  lady 
understood  a  little  English,  and  was  proud  to  have  that 
recognized.  Her  grandmother  looked  up,  saw  the  tall 
girl  clad  in  her  Boston  travelling-dress,  and  shaded 
with  her  Boston  parasol,  but  did  not  miss  the  resem- 


248  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

blance  to  her  own  Thckla,  which  always  affected  Kauf- 
mann  Baum.  "  M}*  God,  my  Thekla  ! "  she  cried  at 
first  in  German,  and  then  in  English  was  beginning  to 
beg  pardon,  when  Uncle  Friedrich  himself  turned 
round  from  the  little  shop-door,  and  Bertha's  aunt, 
who  was  looking  over  the  garden-fence,  —  and,  of 
course,  they  saw  Schwarz  himself,  just  hanging  back 
though  he  was.  Now,  seven  years  had  not  changed 
him,  —  no,  not  ~by  a  hair,  and  I  had  almost  said  not  by 
a  rag.  He  had  a  gift  of  consulting  old-country  tailors, 
and  Margaret  had  a  gift  of  making  for  him  old-country 
shirts ;  and  the  two  gifts  resulted  in  his  costume  being 
exactly  the  same  as  it  was  when  he  left  home.  Bertha 
at  nineteen  was  very  different  from  what  she  had  been 
at  twelve ;  but  Schwarz  was  unchanged.  With  one 
loud  cry,  they  welcomed  him ;  and  with  the  same 
moment  Bertha  was  in  her  grandmother's  embrace, 
and  well-nigh  smothered  by  her  kisses. 

No,  I  must  not  stop  to  tell  you,  as  I  fain  would,  of 
that  night's  jubilations.  At  another  time,  perhaps,  we 
will  tell  of  that,  but  not  now.  The  trunks  came,  and 
were  unpacked.  The  travel-presents  from  London  and 
the  travel-presents  from  Boston  were  divided.  Bertha 
had  birch-bark  canoes  and  Indian  moccasons  from  Ni 
agara  for  them,  —  to  encourage  their  notions  that  all 
America  was  in  the  swa}-  of  savages.  Nor  did  she  tell 
them  that  the  moccasons  were  made  by  the  gross  at  works 
at  Patterson  in  New  Jersey.  It  would  be  a  pity  to 
break  the  spell !  Maple-sugar  she  had  for  the  little 
ones.  Something  there  was  for  every  one,  —  the  chil 
dren  whom  she  had  never  seen,  and  grandmamma 
whom  she  so  well  remembered.  A  jubilant  evening, 
and  they  wont  early  to  bed  ;  for,  as  Max  Schwarz  said, 
in  the  new  importance  which  he  tried  to  assume  some 
times,  "  We  have  grave  business  to  occupy  us  to-mor 
row."  Why  did  Friodrich  Buiirn,  and  why  did  the 
good  grandmother,  look  a  little  uneasy  when  he  said  st>? 

To-morrow  showed.  They  had  the  old-time  break 
fast,  as  Max's  mother  herself  would  have  served  it  for 
his  lather  in  tfic  old  days,  —  only  the  very  best  china 


HOME  AGAIN.  249 

was  on  the  table,  and  the  tankard  which,  as  Bertha 
knew  very  well,  only  came  down  on  state-occasions. 
And,  when  breakfast  was  finished,  Max  Schwarz 
pushed  back  his  chair,  and  said  with  that  same  pretence 
that  he  was  a  man  of  business,  — 

"  Now  for  the  pastor  !  I  will  go  first  to  tell  the  pas 
tor  I  am  here ;  and  then  I  will  go  across  to  the  old 
home,  and  see  my  sister  Marie  ! " 

Then,  and  not  till  then,  did  Friedrich  Banm  gather 
courage,  and  explained  what  had  happened  only  on 
Sunday.  The  pastor,  when  they  came  to  church,  had 
sent  word  that  he  wished  he,  Friedrich,  would  stay  till 
after  the  service  ;  and  he  had  staid.  Then  the  pastor 
had  taken  him,  Friedrich,  into  the  vestry,  —  as  he  al 
ways  did  when  there  was  anything  about  which  he 
wanted  to  consult  him,  —  and  had  taken  out  a  letter 
which  had  come  the  night  before.  It  was  an  East- 
Indian  letter,  and  had  on  it  the  same  stamps  with  the 
first  letter,  —  the  letter  that  told  of  Moritz  Schwarz's 
death.  And  this  letter  was  written  by  the  same  lawyer 
that  wrote  that  letter.  And  this  letter  was  to  say,  that, 
in  the  week  before  it  was  written,  there  had  appeared  at 
Singapore  a  man  named  William  Schwarz,  who  said  he 
was  son  of  Moritz  Schwarz,  and  that  he  had  two  broth 
ers  also,  who  were  Moritz  Schwarz's  sons.  Tl  *s 
William  Schwarz  said,  that  Moritz  Schwarz  married  at 
Calcutta,  and  that  he  had  the  marriage  certificate  ;  and 
in  fact  he  produced  it.  He  produced,  also,  the  certifi 
cate  of  his  own  birth  and  baptism,  and  those  of  his 
brothers.  And  the  letter  ended  by  sa3Ting  that  his 
claim  to  the  estate  of  the  late  Moritz  Schwarz  would 
be  properly  examined  in  the  court  at  Singapore,  and 
that  the  pastor  might  be  assured  that  justice  would  be 
done  to  all  parties.  As  Messrs.  JelLaby  &  Jcllaby  had 
communicated  with  the  pastor  before,  they  had  thought 
it  proper  to  communicate  with  him  again ;  and  they 
had  the  honor  to  be  his  most  obedient  and  most  hum 
ble  servants.  This  letter  the  pastor  had  translated  to 
Friedrich  Bauin  ;  and  Friedrich's  mother  had  since  seen 


250  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

it,  and  had  satisfied  herself  that  the  pastor  had  trans 
lated  it  correctly. 

It  must  be  confessed  that  this  news,  probable  as  it 
was,  came  at  the  first  on  Max  Schwarz  with  an  element 
of  relief  rather  than  regret.  He  knew  very  well,  that 
as  a  master  of  music,  occasionally  buying  or  selling  a 
few  sheets  of  printed  music,  he  was  filling  very  decently 
his  place  in  life.  He  was  by  no  means  certain  how  de 
cently  or  how  well  he  should  fill  the  position  of  the 
master  of  six  hundred  thousand  dollars  which  he  had 
never  earned.  For  Bertha,  it  must  be  confessed,  that 
she  was  still  so  young,  that  she,  at  the  first  moment, 
looked  simply  at  the  queerness,  not  to  say  the  absurd 
ity,  of  the  whole  position.  The  solemnity  and  quaint- 
ness  of  her  uncle  Fricdrich's  announcement ;  the 
asseveration  of  her  grandmother,  that,  whatever  else 
was  wrong,  the  English  was  correctly  translated ;  the 
fear  of  her  aunt  that  Max  would  be  terribly  over 
whelmed,  or  that  Bertha  would  be  terribly  disappointed, 
—  all  these,  joined  to  the  sense  that  she  and  her  father 
had  both  been  on  a  wild-goose  chase,  and  at  the  end 
had  not  even  clutched  a  feather,  made  Bertha  much 
more  disposed  to  laugh  than  to  cry.  After  a  moment, 
she  looked  uneasily  at  her  father  ;  and  in  the  same  in 
stant  he  looked  uneasily  at  her. 

"  Dear  lather  !  "  "  Dear  Bertha  !  "  that  was  all ;  and, 
in  true  German  demonstrative  affection,  they  Hung 
themselves  into  each  other's  arms.  Then  Bertha  as 
sured  her  father  that  she  should  not  be  distressed  —  no, 
not  the  least  bit  in  the  world,  —  if  the  whole  vision  of 
their  untold  wealth  vanished  like  a  dream  of  the  night. 
And  her  father  called  God  to  witness,  most  seriously 
and  reverently,  that  it  was  only  for  the  children  that 
he  cared  for  it,  or  thought  of  it ;  that  Marirarct  did  not 
care  ;  and  that  surely  he  did  not  care.  Friedrich  Baum 
could  not  bear  to  see  a  million  good  thalers  so  coolly 
disposed  of,  as  if  they  had  been  an  old  dish-clout,  lie 
interrupted  the  sentiment  by  his  protestations  of  his 
convict  ions  that  the  William  Scluvarz  was  a  liar  and  a 
cheat ;  that  he  was  in  league  with  Jellaby  &  Jellaby ; 


HOME  AGAIN.  251 

and  that  they  were  in  a  league  with  him  :  nay,  he  went 
so  far  as  to  imply  that  the  English  courts  were  no  bet 
ter  than  they  should  be  ;  and  that,  not  till  justice  wa,s 
administered  in  Singapore  as  it  was  administered  in 
the  southern  provinces  of  Denmark,  or  in  the  free  city 
of  Hamburg,  and  by  the  same  forms,  would  he,  Fried- 
rich  Baum,  believe  that  this  William  Schwarz  was  any 
thing  but  the  vilest  of  impostors.  In  these  views,  I 
must  confess,  his  mother  seconded  him,  who  had  lived 
long  enough  in  this  world  to  know  that  ten  dollars 
would  buy  more  bread  and  butter  than  one,  and  that  a 
hundred  thousand  would  buy  much  more  than  ten. 

But  they  could  not,  both  of  them  together,  move  the 
even  balance  of  Max's  soul.  All  he  would  say  was, 
"  We  will  go  to  the  pastor."  And  to  the  pastor  he  and 
Friedrich  and  Bertha  went  accordingly.  Of  course  the 
pastor  had  nothing  to  tell  but  what  he  had  already 
told.  Here  was  the  letter  from  Jellaby  &  Jellaby. 
It  seemed,  on  the  one  hand,  clear  enough,  that,  if  they 
were  believed  when  they  wrote  their  first  letter,  there 
were  just  the  same  reason  for  believing  them  when  they 
wrote  their  second.  In  the  next  place,  it  was  clear 
enough,  that,  if  a  fortune  of  six  hundred  thousand  dol 
lars  were  lying  round  loose,  waiting  for  a  claimant,  it 
was  not  unnatural  that  in  all  the  islands  of  the  East  a 
claimant  should  appear.  In  the  third  place,  it  was 
known  and  conceded  that  the  Schwarz  who  had  died 
was  an  "  ugly"  and  cross  Schwarz  ;  that  he  left  home, 
almost  before  any  one  could  recollect,  in  a  fit  of  anger  ; 
and  that  he  had  never  directljr  communicated  with  any 
of  the  family.  This  had  been  known  and  conceded  all 
along.  It  was  therefore  clear  that  he  might  have  had 
ten  wives,  and  buried  them  all,  and  that  information 
would  not  have  reached  Lauenburg  of  any  one  even  of 
bereavements  so  distressing.  The  pastor  was  sympa 
thetic  ;  but  even  a  S3'mpathetic  pastor  cannot,  by  his 
unaided  good  wishes,  kill  three  nephews  on  the  other 
side  of  the  world :  far  less  can  he  cancel  their  past  ex 
istence  when  they  have  been  in  operation  twenty  years 
and  more. 


252  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

Evidently  enough  there  was  nothing  for  it  but  to 
wait.  The  proper  affidavits  had  been  sent  from  Lon 
don  ;  the  proper  commissions  had  been  given  to  trust 
worthy  people  in  the  East.  Nothing  else  could  be 
done,  unless,  as  Friedrich  Baum  frantically  suggested, 
Max  Schwarz  himself  went  out  to  Singapore  to  confront 
the  impostor-nephews.  This  Max  pointedly  refused  to 
do,  as  he  had  refused  from  the  beginning.  First,  he 
would  not  go  to  the  Indies  on  any  account :  second,  he 
did  not  know  that  these  men  were  impostors.  Bertha 
was  perfectly  well  aware  that  her  father's  presence  in 
Singapore  would  not  in  the  least  help  the  business  for 
ward  ;  so  she  did  not  favor  the  plan.  Friedrich  then 
hinted  pretty  broadty  that  his  presence  in  Singapore, 
particularly  if  he  appeared  suddenly  in  the  office  of 
Jellaby  &  Jellaby,  would  confound  those  conspirators. 
But  nobody  seconded  the  suggestion  which  he  made, 
implying  his  readiness  to  undertake  the  voyage.  The 
only  duty  that  was  clear,  was  to  wait,  —  communicating, 
of  course,  with  the  counsel  in  London. 

It  became,  therefore,  Bertha's  somewhat  difficult  duty 
to  write  a  letter  to  her  lover,  as  soon  as  she  came  home 
that  morning,  which  should  sa}r  two  things,  on  two  very 
different  subjects.  First,  with  all  tenderness,  she  was  to 
tell  him  wh}'  she  could  not  take  the  priceless  gift  he 
offered  her.  Second,  she  was  to  ask  him  to  see  the 
counsel  in  London,  and  put  in  their  hands  some  ex 
planation  of  the  new  phase  which  the  Singapore  inherit 
ance  seemed  to  have  taken.  That  is  to  say,  her  father 
was  urging  her  to  do  this,  as  they  walked  slowly  home  ; 
and  poor  Bertha  was  so  used  to  doing  what  everybody 
else  told  her  to  do,  or  asked  her  to  do,  or  wanted  her  to 
do,  that  for  the  moment  she  supposed  that  this  was 
really  necessary. 

But  then,  she  found  herself  in  her  little  room  in  the 
attic,  with  her  portfolio  on  her  knees,  as  is  the  custom 
of  her  sex.  Then  slu>  had  had  one  good  fit  of  crying,  — 
yes,  and  then  —  let  me  say  it  reverently  —  she  put  her 
head  on  her  hand,  and  waited  a  minute,  listening  if  the 
Good  Father  had  anything  to  say  to  her ;  and  then, 


HOME  AGAIN.  253 

in  so  many  words,  she  asked  Him  to  help  her  through. 
Then  she  opened  her  portfolio,  and  looked  on  the 
paper  a  minute,  and  wrote  this  letter,  which  she  then 
read  over,  and,  without  one  minute  for  reconsideration, 
sent  by  little  Fritz  to  the  little  post-office : 

LAUENBURG,  OCT.  30. 

MY  DEAR  Dr.  FARQUHAR,  —  Ever  since  I  received 
y our  note,  so  kind  as  it  is,  I  have  been  distressed  with 
one  thought :  I  have  been  afraid  that  I  have  misled  you 
without  once  meaning  to.  But  if  you  knew  what  a 
relief  your  mother's  kindness  —  yes,  and  yours  —  to  a 
poor,  frightened  girl,  away  from  home,  was  from  the 
beginning,  I  think  I  know  you  would  pardon  me.  Of 
course  I  now  know  that  I  should  have  said  or  done 
something  :  I  should  have  been  more  guarded.  I  know 
it  now,  when  it  is  too  late  to  know  it.  If  I  had  known 
it  then,  I  should  have  spared  you  great  pain,  —  and 
nrs'self  as  much,  dear  Dr.  Farquhar,  I  do  assure  you. 

But  I  never  dreamed  of  this.  Do  me  the  justice  to 
know  that  I  never  dreamed  of  this.  Do  not  think  — 
no,  I  know  you  do  not  think  that  I  would  willingly 
cause  a  moment's  pain  to  you  who  have  been  so  kind 
and  so  generous  to  my  dear  father. 

What  you  ask  for  is  simply  impossible.  What 
distresses  me  is,  that  I  did  not  know  or  see  or  think 
in  time  to  save  you  from  the  pain  of  asking.  The 
books  say,  —  those  ver}r  books  that  we  were  talking  of 
so  merrily  on  Thursda}-,  —  oh,  dear !  it  seems  a  year 
ago,  —  the  books  say,  that  every  woman  can  put  every 
man  on  his  guard,  and  save  him  this  suffering.  Dear 
Dr.  Farquhar,  it  is  not  so.  I  know  you  will  believe  me 
that  I  would  most  gladly  save  any  suffering  to  you  and 
yours. 

When  she  had  come  thus  far,  Bertha  drew  a  black 
line  all  across  the  paper,  and  went  on. 

The  will-o'-wisp  that  led  us  here  has  gone  off  to 
his  own  bogs  again ;  and  I  think  he  will  stay  there. 
I  hope  my  dear  father  will  get  off  his  letters  to  London 
to-day  to  explain  to  u  the  counsel "  the  overthrow  of  our 


254  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

castle.  But  I  find  it  impossible  to  say  that  I  am  sorry 
we  came.  Dear  Dr.  Farquliar,  I  should  be  false  to 
myself,  if,  even  in  this  letter,  I  did  not  say,  that  I  shall 
always  remember  your  kindness  and  your  mother's 
among  the  choice  blessings  of  my  life. 

Pray  give  my  love  to  her,  —  pi'ay  ask  her  to  forgive 
me  ;  and  believe  me 

Your  grateful  friend, 

BERTHA  SCIIWARZ. 

Then  Bertha  went  down  to  her  father.  He  knew  she 
had  sent  a  letter  away,  and  he  supposed  that  all  was 
done  which  was  to  be  done.  And  she  found  him  in  the 
back  of  the  little  shop  rummaging  among  some  old 
sheet-music,  —  which  was  just  where  he  had  left  it,  — 
and  disinterring  this  sonata  and  that  s}rmphony  with 
the  joy  of  a  child  let  loose  "upon  an  old  closet  of  for 
gotten  playthings.  Bertha  had  to  recall  him  to  himself 
and  to  his  dreams  of  fortune,  and  to  explain  to  him 
that  he,  and  not  she,  must  write  the  fatal  letter  to  the 
counsel.  Alas !  I  fear  that  Max  would  gladly  have 
sold  all  that  birthright  for  a  mess  of  pottage  ;  that  if 
Bertha  would  have  let  him  open  his  violin  case,  which 
had  now  come  up  from  the  pier,  and  just  play  for  her  a 
few  passages  which  he  had  hummed  to  her  once  and 
again  on  their  voyage,  or  just  explain  to  her  the  true 
rendering  of  the  Sonata  X,  or  just  give  her  a  hint  of 
what  Mozart  meant  in  the  adagio  in  the  Apollo,  —  if 
Bertha  would  have  only  consented  to  this,  I  am  afraid 
that  he  would  have  let  the  counsel  go  perish,  and  the 
inheritance  itself  sink  in  the  sea.  But  Bertha  was  as 
the  nether  millstone  in  her  hard-heartedness.  She 
dragged  him  away  from  his  beloved  closet,  and  dictated 
long  letters  to  the  counsel,  and  set  him  to  copying  Jel- 
laby  &  Jellaby's  new  letter ;  while  she  made  another 
ropy  for  the  family  at  home,  and,  in  one  word,  converted 
tlic  d.-iv  lo  business.  Bertha  was  <juite  sure  that  there 
was  nothing  else  to  do  but  to  face  the  perplexities,  and 
drive  this  matter  through. 

is  it  necessary  that  this  stor}r  should  linger  for 


HOME  AGAIN.  255 

me  to  describe  in  much  detail  the  Tips  and  Downs  of 
the  Singapore  correspondence.  The  overland  mail 
from  India  was  not  then  what  it  is  now  ;  but  before 
long  the  letters  on  each  side  began  to  be  answers  of 
those  which  had  been  sent  before.  The  English  counsel 
had  correspondents  high  in  office  and  high  in  reputation 
in  the  East,  in  whom  the}'  had  implicit  confidence. 
These  correspondents  had  been  early  propitiated  —  so 
to  speak  prejudiced,  if  }*ou  please  —  in  the  interest  of 
Max  as  the  rightful  heir  of  the  Schwarz  who  was 
deceased.  The  London  counsel  could  suggest  nothing 
better  than  waiting  till  these  very  distinguished  corre 
spondents  could  be  heard  from.  They  were  heard  from 
sooner  than  could  be  expected.  Even  in  the  East,  such 
a  fortune  as  this  of  the  late  Schwarz  attracts  some 
attention,  when  nobody  seems  to  own  it,  and  when  it 
is  going  a-begging.  And  the  moment  they  had  been 
retained  in  the  matter,  the}'  remembered  it  daily  ;  and, 
as  soon  as  the  putative  William  Schwarz  appeared,  the 
distinguished  correspondents,  without  waiting  special 
orders,  examined  his  credentials.  They  examined  him 
before  his  face,  and  they  examined  much  more  behind 
his  back.  They  sent  to  distinguished  and  very  reliable 
private  correspondents  of  theirs  in  S}'dney  and  in  Mel 
bourne,  who  would  doubtless,  by  early  mails,  inform 
them  of  the  real  history  of  the  putative  William. 

After  all  this  communication  there  was  more  waiting. 
More  letters  came  from  Jellaby  &  Jellaby.  Very 
clearly  they  were  convinced  of  the  genuineness  of  the 
putative  William,  or  were  retained  to  say  they  were. 
More  waiting  still ;  and  then  began  to  appear  copies 
of  letters  from  the  confidential  and  highly-trustworthy 
Australian  correspondents  of  the  highly-trustworthy 
and  confidential  Indian  correspondents  of  our  London 
counsel :  and  all  these  letters  seemed  to  indicate  that  the 
three  Schwarzes  whom  William  Schwarz  represented 
were  genuine  Schwarzes,  —  born  in  great  poverty,  and 
deserted  by  their  father,  who  was  well  remembered  as 
an  u  ugly,"  cross,  sulky,  passionate  German,  who  spoke 
very  bad  English,  and  left  Australia  and  these  three 


256  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

children  twenty-five  years  ago.  Next  there  began  to 
arrive  a  wholly  independent  set  of  documents  from 
Australia  direct  to  our  English  counsel.  They  had 
written  to  their  own  very  reliable  and  confidential 
friends  in  those  colonies,  so  soon  as  Pastor  Merck's 
letter,  copied  by  Max  Schwarz,  had  come  to  hand. 
The  answers  they  received  direct  were  therefore  wholly 
independent  of  those  which  came  from  India.  Poor 
Bertha  found  the  tears  running  from  her  e3Tes  as  she 
read  them.  It  was  the  stoiy  of  a  poor  German  widow 
—  as  she  thought  herself,  and  was  thought  —  fighting 
sickness  in  wretched  poverty,  as  she  dragged  along  a 
miserable  life  with  these  fatherless  boys.  There  were 
copies  of  letters  from  clergymen  and  churchwardens 
and  charitable  ladies,  who  had  befriended  her.  And  at 
last  she  had  died.  And  then  the  boys  had  "been  cared 
for,  as  often  boys  are  in  new  communities.  They  had 
fought  their  way  along,  —  a  good  deal  mixed  up  with 
horses  and  stables,  —  not  a  bad  set,  it  seemed  from  the 
letters,  —  and  as  all  parties  agreed,  not  men  who  would 
willingly  press  a  claim  in  which  they  did  not  themselves 
believe. 

Bertha,  by  this  time,  gave  up  the  whole  thing  as  the 
will-o'-wisp  indeed,  which  at  the  beginning  she  had 
called  it.  Her  father  took  curiously  little  interest  in 
these  details.  Once  and  again  he  said  that  he  wanted 
nothing  which  belonged  to  another.  Once  and  again 
he  tried  to  recollect  something  pleasant  about  the 
brother  whose  whole  behavior  seemed  to  have  been  so 
worthless  ;  and  once  and  again  he  failed.  As  for  the 
whole  community  at  Lanenburg,  which  was  regularly 
informed,  week  by  week,  of  the  progress  of  the  nego 
tiation,  its  opinion  was  distinct,  that  the  East-Indian 
Schwarz  was  the  most  worthless  emigrant  who  ever 
left  that  town  ;  that,  if  he  had  children,  they  were  not 
born  in  wedlock  ;  that,  if  Max  and  Bertha  were  cheated 
out  of  their  inheritance  by  any  who  belonged,  or  atfected 
to  belong,  to  him,  this  was  only  the  last  and  lowest  of 
his  worthless  deeds.  In  all  this  criticism,  it  was  steadily 
forgotten  that  the  million  thalers  in  question  was  the 


HOME  AGsUN.  257 

result,  at  the  least,  of  his  parsimony,  if  not  of  his  in- 
dustiy,  thrift,  and  enterprise. 

And  Dr.  Farquhar  ? 

No,  he  did  not  give  it  up  so. 

First  of  all,  he  put  himself  into  daily  communication 
with  the  London  counsel,  —  nay,  he  had  professional 
friends,  and  old  army  friends,  and  friends  in  the  gov 
ernment  in  Sydney ;  and  he  started  an  independent 
series  of  confidential  inquiries  among  reliable  persons 
about  the  antipodean  Schwarzes.  Really,  in  those 
da^ys,  the  origin  of  the  Schwarz  family  must  have  been 
the  principal  subject  of  conversation  in  the  best  circles 
of  Australia.  And  ever}^  time  he  heard  aiyything  from 
the  counsel,  and  every  time  he  heard  anything  from  the 
antipodes,  the  brave  doctor,  hoping  against  hope,  made 
it  an  excuse  for  writing  to  Bertha  another  letter.  Poor 
Bertha !  she  answered  some  of  them,  and  some  of  them 
she  did  not  answer.  She  did  the  best  she  knew  how  to 
do  when  every  letter  came,  and  bound  herself  by  no  un 
yielding  policy. 

Here  is  one  of  his  letters  : 

Horace  Farquhar  to  Bertha  JSchwarz. 

LONDON,  FEB.  11. 

DEAR  Miss  BERTHA,  —  The  Australian  steamer  is  in  ; 
and  I  have  letters  from  Mr.  Hatchings,  — the  Methodist 
minister  of  whom  I  think  I  wrote  }~ou,  —  and  from  Col. 
Clapham,  under  whose  command  I  served  a  winter  in 
Toronto.  Col.  Clapham's  letter  contains  nothing  which 
will  interest  you,  though  he  promises  in  his  next  some 
thing  decisive.  I  enclose  Mr.  Hutchings's  letter ;  he 
seems  to  be  an  honest,  well-meaning  creature,  who  has 
evidently  done  his  best,  but  as  evidently  misunderstands 
the  object  of  my  inquiries  ;  for  I  was  at  least  compar 
atively  indifferent  whether  this  poor  Sara  Schwarz 
had  experienced  religion  in  his  method  before  her  death 
or  no.  But  I  would  have  given  a  good  deal  for  any 
adequate  account  of  her  husband's  personal  appear 
ance,  and  still  more  of  his  origin ;  and  this  I  do  not 
receive. 
17 


258  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

Believe  me,  it  is  to  me  the  greatest  pleasure  —  in 
deed,  Miss  Bertha,  it  is  my  only  pleasure  —  to  collect 
and  forward  these  scraps  for  you,  —  always  with  the 
hope  that  they  may  in  some  way  be  of  use  to  you  or  to 
your  excellent  father.  I  can  understand  very  well  what 
a  wretched  business  such  suspense  as  yours  must  be. 
I  wish,  with  all  my  heart,  that  the  matter  may  be  de 
cided  for  }^ou  soon,  —  one  way  or  another.  Let  it  be 
decided  any  way  you  wish,  —  if  only  you  could  be  free 
to  care  less  for  odious  business-details,  and  to  enjoy 
your  home  again. 

For  me,  —  I  do  not  ask  again  for  more  than  you  per 
mit  ;  at  least,  I  do  not  ask  it  now.  You  shall  not  say 
that  you  are  friendless,  even  if  your  friends  cannot 
serve  you.  Nor  must  you  say  that  you  are  left  to  work 
out  these  problems  alone,  while  a  dozen  of  the  best  men 
in  England  are  doing  their  best  that  you  shall  have  your 
rights.  Believe  me,  they  shall  be  urged  up  to  this  by 
another,  who  is  not  one  of  the  best  men  in  England, 
but  who  is,  and  who  will  be, 

Yours,  and  only  }Tours, 

HORACE  FARQUHAR. 

"This  will  never  do,"  said  poor  Bertha.  "Yet  what 
in  the  world  can  I  do  about  it  ?  "  And  then  she  turned 
to  the  other  letter  which  came  by  the  same  mail : 

Jasper  Rising  to  Bertha  Scliwarz. 

NEW  YORK,  JAN.  30. 

DEAR  Miss  BERTHA,  —  You  were  kind  enough  to  say 
I  might  write  to  you  when  you  left  us  :  and  I  did  write 
to  tell  the  result  of  Oscar's  quest  for  Ruth  Cottam. 
Since  that  time  my  life  has  strangely  changed ;  and  I 
venture  to  write  again,  that  I  may  tell  you  that  Detroit 
is  no  longer  my  home,  and  may  never  be  again. 

The  cholera  broke  up  all  business  there,  —  mine,  per- 
linps,  most  of  all.  My  partners  both  died,  you  know  : 
my  best  workmen  were  all  scattered.  I  made  one  and 
another  effort  to  reestablish  myself:  but,  both  in  my 
search  for  men  and  in  the  other  search  for  money,  I  was 


HOME  AGAIN.  259 

disappointed  ;  and  I  could  not  but  doubt  whether  Prov 
idence  realty  meant  that  I  should  be  a  carriage-builder. 
Circumstances  brought  me  here  once,  and  then  again. 
I  believe  all  rivers,  however  small,  in  the  end  flow  into 
the  sea.  My  prime  object  in  ever  going  into  carriage- 
building  was  to  make  a  thorough  mechanic  of  dear  Os 
car.  I  found  an  admirable  opening  for  him  here,  in  one 
of  the  best  shops  in  the  country  ;  and,  realty,  because 
he  came,  I  have  come  as  well.  He  is  at  work,  and 
happ3\  I  am  waiting  for  work,  and  am  therefore  mis 
erable. 

Meanwhile,  I  hear  from  }Tour  uncle,  —  on  whom  I 
called  yesterday, —  that  there  seems  to  be  some  cloud 
over  the  brilliant  prospect  which  opened  before  j^our 
father  when  you  left  us  all  in  the  hospital.  I  need  not 
say  how  sorry  I  shall  be  if  he  is  disappointed ;  how 
wrrong  it  will  be  if  any  sharper  gets  possession  of  a 
property  which  is  rightly  his.  And  }*et,  for  some  of  us, 
there  would  be  a  compensation  in  any  news  of  which 
the  issue  should  be  your  return  to  America.  I  hope 
you  have  some  associations  with  us  more  agreeable  than 
a  year  spent  with  smugglers,  or  a  month  in  hospital. 
And,  whenever  you  do  return,  I  can  assure  you  that 
there  are  two  old  friends  who  will  be  read}r  with  the 
warmest  welcome. 

For  one,  I  have  always  wished  that  the  Mr.  Schwarz 
who  lived  in  Singapore  had  lived  a  thousand  j^ears.  I 
have  no  association  with  him,  but  that  he  called  you 
away  from  Detroit,  and  from  }~our  patients.  I  wish 
him  and  his  no  harm ;  but  I  do  not  see  why,  from  his 
spice-islands,  he  need  be  interfering  with  the  happiness 
of  me  and  Oscar. 

Whenever  you  have  gone  as  far  as  is  necessary  at  the 
call  of  his  ghost,  we  hope  you  will  return  to  America. 
I  say  "  we  "  ;  for  in  Jlhis  wish  I  am  joined  by  Oscar.  I 
beg  you  to  count  me*  in  any  event,  as 

Yours  very  truly,  —  }'ours  always, 

JASPER  RISING. 

I  do  not  myself  think  that  Jasper  wrote  as  good  let- 


260  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

ters  as  Horace  Farquhar ;  but  I  am  not  sorry  that  he 
wrote  when  he  did.  Bertha  knew  enough  to  read  under 
the  seal  of  that  letter.  That  letter  taught  her  that 
what  she  had  guessed  was  true.  She  knew  now  that 
Jasper  hated  her  uncle's  fortune,  and  that  it  had  worked 
him  woe.  For  her  part,  Bertha  had  hated  it  from  the 
beginning. 


TEN  DA  YS  LA  TEE.  261 


CHAPTER    XXV. 

TEN    DAYS    LATER. 

TT  became  evident  to  Jasper  Rising  that  his  carriage- 
-*•  building  days  in  Detroit  were  over.  Nay,  he  was 
not  certain  but  that  his  carriage-building  days  were 
over.  In  trying  to  solve  the  problem  he  had  in  hand, 
he  thought  much  more  of  Oscar's  position  than  he 
thought  of  his  own  ;  that,  indeed,  was  Jasper's  way. 
From  the  beginning  the  carriage-building  enterprise  had 
seemed  to  him  to  promise  well  for  the  boy,  and  it  was 
clear  that  the  decision  had  been  a  good  one  as  far  as 
Oscar  was  concerned.  Now,  as  we  have  seen,  Jasper 
had  been  thwarted  at  last  in  every  direction  in  which 
his  good  fortune  or  his  enterprise  had  favored  him 
before.  On  the  other  hand,  in  the  city  of  New  York 
itself,  as  he  went  into  one  and  another  of  the  great 
factories,  where  he  was  not  displeased  to  find  his  name 
already  known,  he  found  two  or  three  admirable  open 
ings  for  cariying  further  Oscar's  education  in  the  line 
which  he  had  entered  upon.  Foremen  of  shops  in  New 
York  were  very  glad  to  engage  one  such  man,  ten  such 
men,  who  meant  to  earn  promotion,  and  had  as  good 
sponsors  as  Jasper.  It  was  clear  enough  that  New 
York  offered  Oscar  just  now,  more  than  Detroit  could 
offer  him.  For  Jasper  himself,  Detroit  offered  nothing. 
In  truth,  New  York  offered  little  to  him.  But  there 
was  one  and  another  u  nibble"  in  New  York  which  was 
tempting  ;  New  York  is  always  tempting  to  j'oung  men. 
One  and  another  of  the  carriage-builders  whom  Jasper 
talked  with,  were  glad,  in  a  vague  way,  to  suggest  that 
there  would  be  some  change  in  their  arrangements  in 
which  there  might  be  an  opening  for  him.  And  thus  it 


262  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

happened,  to  shorten  the  story  of  more  than  one  jour- 
ney  back  and  fourth,  of  much  questioning  and  cross- 
que^tioning,  terrible  aiixietj7  and  low  spirits  in  propor 
tion,  as  the  autumn  and  winter  drifted  b}T,  Jasper  sold 
all  the  remaining  stock  in  hand  of  the  late  thriving  firm 
of  Buifum,  Dundas  &  Rising ;  and  with  Oscar's  little 
patrimony  considerably  increased,  and  his  own  earn 
ings  enlarged  in  the  same  proportion,  Jasper  bade 
Detroit  good-by,  and  in  early  spring  came  to  the  great 
metropolis,  as  so  many  other  j'oung  men  do  every  day 
of  every  year,  to  seek  his  fortune,  without  full  knowl 
edge  in  what  line  that  fortune  was  to  be  found. 

All  along  appeared  the  magnificent  superiorit}7  of 
Oscar's  position.  Oscar  had  the  beginning  of  a  handi 
craft,  which  is  to  sajT,  the  beginning  of  independence. 
The  more  delicate  the  handicraft  the  more  certain  the 
independence,  and  Oscar  was  already  no  inferior  crafts 
man.  To  him  the  large  shops,  the  division  of  labor, 
the  thoroughness  of  work,  were  all  a  luxury.  The  fore 
man  under  whom  he  worked  at  first,  saw  the  genius  of 
the  boy,  and  took  to  him.  Who  did  not  take  to  Oscar  ? 
So  this  man,  Klous,  let  Oscar  have  this  and  that  and 
another  chance  to  try  the  different  work-rooms  in  turn, 
training  himself  now  on  one  branch  of  his  dut}*  and  now 
on  the  other.  He  had,  therefore,  what  in  mechanic 
work  is  the  greatest  compensation  of  all,  —  he  had 
variety  of  occupation.  He  did  not  have  to  do  the 
same  thing  for  a  year  of  life,  which,  whether  it  be  in 
keeping  school,  in  canning  oysters,  or  in  paving  streets, 
is  the  only  hardship  worth  complaining  <>!'.  Oscar 
throve  with  Lowndes  &  Karrigaii,  and  was  only  angry 
with  himself  that  he  was  so  happy  while  his  poor 
master  was  so  ill  at  ease. 

Jasper  would  not  brood.  He  kept  his  eyes  open, 
riirlit  and  left,  and  was  as  willing  to  take  hold  of  what 
ever  might  offer,  as  he  was  the  day  he  took  to  car- 
elcanini:.  But  he  declared  that  nobody  wanted  him  to 
scrub  railway  carriages.  Meanwhile  ho  ran  about  a 
little.  lie  visited  Boston  and  Cambridge  again,  for  the 
first  time  since  he  left  college.  Cambridge  was  sadly 


TEN  DA  YS  LA  TEE.  263 

dull.  There  was  hardly  any  one  who  remembered 
Jasper  there.  And,  instead  of  being  at  the  top  of  the 
walk,  —  going  and  coming  in  the  college  }'ard  as  if  no 
man  knew  the  law  of  the  instrument  quite  as  well  as 
he,  —  he  found  himself  now  almost  sneaking  along  the 
paths,  deprecating  the  inquiring  looks  of  freshman  and 
sophomore,  who,  as  he  met  them,  seemed  to  ask  them 
selves,  and  almost  to  ask  him,  why  men  of  his  age 
thought  it  worth  while  to  continue  in  this  world. 

Jasper  treated  himself  to  a  visit  at  the  house  of 
Mrs.  Schwarz,  to  inquire  after  Bertha.  But  the  visit 
was  unsatisfactory.  Mrs.  Schwarz  was  afraid  of  him, 
as  she  was  of  most  persons  in  this  world.  She  did  not 
remember  much  about  him,  —  the  experience  of  her 
first  day  at  New  York  had  been  swept  out  of  her  mind 
by  the  rapid  changes  of  events  since  then,  —  and  in 
the  hurry  and  worry  of  Bertha's  departure  for  Ger- 
niairy,  she  had  not  understood  much  about  Detroit,  or 
the  relations  of  Bertha  and  Jasper  there.  Nor,  indeed, 
could  she  have  told  much  about  Bertha's  fortunes  if  she 
would.  The  letters  only  told  that  they  were  well,  ikey 
were  very  well,  but  when  they  would  return  Mrs. 
Schwarz  did  not  know.  So  this  was  all  Master  Jasper 
got  for  his  expedition  to  Boston.  Had  he  repented 
that  he  had  not  said  one  word  more  to  Bertha  before 
she  left  Detroit  ?  Ah  !  who  shall  tell  what  does  or  does 
not  weave  itself  in  with  the  hopes  and  the  memories, 
the  fears  or  the  doubts  of  eager  youth,  —  touched  as 
Jasper  had  been  touched  ?  But  if  he  expected  to  pick 
up  any  stitch  which  lie  had  dropped  in  past  life,  by 
making  this  visit  to  Boston  now,  he  was  sadly  disap 
pointed.  He  spoke  German  much  better  than  he  did  when 
he  took  Mrs.  Schwarz  and  Bertha  to  the  great  basket- 
store.  And  Mrs.  Schwarz  spoke  English  better  than 
she  did  then.  But  she  did  not  understand  him  very 
well.  He  did  not  understand  her  very  well.  She  was 
afraid  he  was  an  agent  of  the  lost  nephews,  trying  to 
entrap  her  simplicity.  He  did  not  dare  tell  her  that  if 
the  fortune  could  be  blown  sky-high  by  an  explosion  of 
saltpetre  in  Singapore,  he  should  be  the  happiest  of  men. 


2 G 4  UPS  AND  DO WNS. 

And  so,  like  the  Sultan  of  Serendib,  he  returned  as  sad 
as  he  came. 

Poor  Jasper  !  he  had  pretended  even  to  himself,  that 
he  had  gone  to  Boston  and  to  Cambridge  for  the  sake 
of  seeing  how  the  old  places  looked,  and  shaking  hands 
with  Kenney  and  any  of  the  rest  of  the  old  set. 
Transparent  delusion !  Kenney  was  in  Washington 
in  charge  of  a  patent  case.  Jasper  did  not  find  one  of 
the  old  set  for  whom  he  cared  one  straw.  And  the 
real  object  of  his  enterprise,  which  he  had  not  ventured 
to  confide  in  form  even  to  himself,  was  this  visit  to 
Mrs.  Schwarz,  which  turned  out  so  wretchedly. 

New  York  is  a  university  in  itself,  if  only  man  or 
woman  go  there  resolved  to  learn,  and  knowing  how  to 
study.  If  this  story  were  not  huriying  to  its  close,  so 
that  ever}7  line  of  it  is  precious  space,  I  would  here  and 
now  devote  three  or  four  chapters  to  notes  from  Jas 
per's  memoirs  illustrative  of  this  position.  But  we 
must  let  them  go.  Perhaps  at  some  time  he  will  him 
self  send  them  to  "OLD  AND  NEW":  —  "Passages 
from  the  Diary  of  a  Retired  Carriage-Builder."  In 
those  days  they  had  no  Cooper  Institute,  and  the  Astor 
was  in  its  infancy.  But  there  were  the  Mercantile  and 
the  Society  Libraries,  and  Jasper  soon  made  friends 
with  dear,  kind  Dr.  Cogswell,  who  gave  him  the  luxury 
indescribable  of  ranging  through  the  undigested  collec 
tions  which  he  had  begun  in  Bond  Street.  For  the 
rest,  a  University  is  not  made  only  or  chiefly  by  its 
libraries.  Jasper  was  in  the  churches,  in  the  courts, 
at  the  medical  college,  always  tolerant  of  loafers  and 
visitors.  He  had  friends  at  the  Union  Seminary ;  he 
knew  all  the  better  men  at  work  on  the  press,  which, 
for  .'ill  its  boasting  of  to-day,  had  quite  as  competent 
men  engaged  in  its  duties  then  as  it  has  ever  had. 
.Jasper  wanted  to  learn  and  knew  how  to  study,  and  so 
New  York  was  for  him  a  University. 

In  this  university  he  and  Oscar  lived,  of  course,  as 
chums.  They  had  hired  two  little  rooms  in  the  fifth 
story  of  a  tall  warehouse  on  the  Third  Avenue.  It 
was  then  thought  to  be  very  far  up-town,  being  in  fact 


TEN  DA  YS  LA  TEH.  265 

between  14th  and  20th  Streets.  The  young  fellows 
made  their  own  breakfast;  they  dined  down  town 
almost  as  frugally  as  Franklin  in  his  apprenticeship, 
though  Jasper  would  not  live  without  meat,  and  could 
not  live  without  oysters.  Still  the}'  lived  frugally,  for 
all  this  violation  of  Franklin's  rule  ;  and  every  evening 
they  were  together,  just  as  in  the  old  happy  evenings  at 
Detroit, — Jasper  teaching  and  talking  and  Oscar  lis 
tening,  each  of  them  relishing  the  evening,  whether  it 
was  at  home,  or  whether  they  were  rowing,  or  whether 
they  were  following  up  one  of  the  clews  of  acquaint 
anceship  which  open  in  as  hospitable  a  town  as  New 
York  to  two  such  youngsters  ;  but  alwa3*s  together, 
and,  because  the}r  were  together,  always  enjoying  life. 
Of  which  university  life  we  shall  learn  the  detail  when 
we  get  the  "Diary  of  a  Carriage-Builder." 

May  opened  upon  them  cheerily.  And  in  Ma}r  an 
adventure  happened  to  the  two  young  fellows,  where 
Jasper  advanced  his  fortunes  one  step,  by  the  inevit 
able  success  which  waits  on  doing  the  duty  that  comes 
next  one's  hand.  They  had  an  off  day  at  the  carriage- 
shop,  repairs  in  the  engine-room  or  something,  and 
Jasper  and  Oscar  made  a  day  of  it,  with  young  Mr. 
Karrigan,  who  was  a  junior  partner  in  the  firm.  Kar- 
rigan  had  more  than  once  joined  Jasper  in  a  sail  in  the 
bay,  and  on  this  occasion  he  asked  him  to  give  him  his 
advice  about  a  boat  he  had  a  fancy  to  buy, —  the 
"Meg  Merrilies," — which  was  owned  by  a  friend  of 
his.  who  was  tired  of  her.  Mr.  Karrigan  himself  knew 
nothing  of  boating,  but  thought  he  should  like  to  own 
a  boat,  and  that  in  that  case  he  should  learn.  Jasper, 
from  the  old  Duquesne  days,  and  Oscar,  from  the  old 
blood  of  the  Fiords,  were  skilled  boatmen. 

A  long,  jolly,  and  adventurous  day  they  had  of  it,  — 
of  which,  as  before,  the  "Carriage-Builder's  Diary" 
will  give  us  the  detail.  Four  or  five  of  them  in  all,  — 
well  off  soundings,  and  most  of  them  used  to  hard 
work  on  week-days.  But  of  that  day  this  page  tells 
nothing  till  its  close.  Jasper  had  put  down  the  little 
"Meg's"  helm,  very  unwillingly,  to  return  to  smoke 


266  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

and  dust  and  noise  and  rush,  when,  as  he  threw  his 
e}Te  seaward,  he  saw  that  a  Liverpool  packet,  which  for 
half  an  hour  they  had  been  watching,  had  changed  her 
course,  and  was  on  another  tack,  as  if  the  wind  with 
her  had  come  round  so  far  as  to  compel  her  to  beat  in. 
Jasper's  practised  Gje  caught  the  change  of  purpose  of 
her  pilot,  and  he  cried  to  Karrigan,  "She  will  not  come 
up  to-night.  Let  us  run  down  to  meet  her."  And, 
without  waiting  to  consult,  he  went  about  again  and 
ran  down  to  the  stranger.  Nobody  asked  him  wiry ; 
nobody  cared  ;  they  were  young  and  they  were  happy, 
and  no  one  wanted  to  go  home.  The  "  Meg  Merrilies  " 
ran  off  smartly  before  the  wind,  and  in  a  very  few 
minutes  she  swept  up  under  the  stranger's  quarter. 

"  Do  you  go  up  to-night? "  cried  Jasper  to  the  mate 
of  the  vessel,  whom  he  saw  standing  on  the  rail  with 
his  hand  on  the  shrouds.  And  the  mate  answered 
sharply,  "  Not  to-night,  with  this  wind.  Will  you  give 
us  a  tow  ?  "  And  they  all  laughed. 

The  "  Meg  "  was  falling  aft,  as  the  "  Clyde  "  pushed 
slowly  forward,  and  Jasper  hailed  again.  "  How  many 
days'  passage?" 

"Twenty-four  from  the  light,"  cried  the  mate;  but 
he  did  not  ask  the  news,  for  he  had  a  pilot  already. 

"  Twentj'-four  da}'s  !  "  said  Jasper,  surprised.  "  Heave 
us  some  papers,  then  !  We  are  from  the  '  Journal  of 
Commerce.' " 

But  the  mate,  sick  of  the  conference,  put  his  thumb 
to  his  nose,  as  if  to  indicate  that  our  young  friends  did 
not  look  like  newsmen,  and  walked  indifferently  away. 
The  "  Clyde  "  still  forged  forward,  the  "  Meg  Merrilies  " 
drifted  aft  still,  and  the  interview  would  have  ended, 
but  that  a  lady  who  had  watched  it  all  from  the  upper 
deck,  ran  into  the  saloon,  was  out  in  a  moment,  ran  aft 
on  the  deck,  —  and,  to  the  astonishment  of  the  young 
men,  cried,  — 

"  Mr.  Rising,  Mr.  Rising,  here  !  "  And  with  a  firm 
hand,  she  throw  —  one,  two,  three,  folded  newspapers 
down.  Karrigan  caught  one,  one  fell  on  the  ballast, 
the  third  fell  in  the  water.  Oscar,  all  in  the  spirit  of 


TEN  DA  Y8  LA  TEE.  26  7 

the  adventure,  went  in  after  it,  and,  in  a  moment  more, 
had  it  in  his  hand,  and,  all  screaming  with  laughter, 
they  hauled  him  in  over  the  "  Meg's "  stern.  The 
"Clyde"  still  worked  on  her  way,  the  "Meg's"  sails 
took  the  breeze  again,  and  the}r  were  parted.  Jasper 
waved  his  hand  to  his  unknown  friend,  but  the  sun  was 
against  him,  and  he  could  not  see  her  face.  He  had 
his  papers,  and  he  held  to  the  purpose  with  which  he 
asked  for  them. 

To  do  justice  to  the  mate  of  the  "Clyde,"  if  he 
had  known,  what  he  learned  five  minutes  after,  that  the 
"  Great  Western,"  the  steamer  which  in  those  days 
brought  the  English  news  to  America  on  nearl}-  every 
voyage  she  made,  had  not  arrived,  having  had  probably 
to  put  back  by  some  accident,  he  would  not  have  been 
quite  so  testy  about  papers.  Jasper  knew  —  as  every 
other  man  in  the  city,  who  kept  any  run  of  affairs, 
knew  —  that  New  York  was  again  thirty  days  behind 
the  news  of  Liverpool,  just  as  if  they  had  been  living  in 
ante-steamer  days.  It  was  just  a  recollection  of  this 
which  had  made  him  bear  down  on  the  "  Clyde,"  and, 
when  he  found  how  short  her  passage  had  been,  ask  the 
officer  for  papers. 

The  moment  he  knew  that  the  "Clyde"  had  news 
only  twenty -four  days  old,  Jasper  asked  for  papers. 
And  his  unknown  friend  had  answered  that  wish,  so 
that  now  he  had  only  to  beat  the  "  Clyde,"  and  he 
could  relieve  the  news-famished  city.  The  "  Clyde " 
soon  proved  no  rival  to  the  "  Meg,"  however.  Each 
kept  on  her  course,  the  "  Meg,"  as  it  happened,  saving 
all  the  breeze  there  was,  and  the  "  Clyde  "  creeping 
out  of  it.  Before  an  hour,  the  "  Cl}'de"  was  becalmed 
in  a  fog  in  the  lower  harbor,  and  Jasper  and  the  "  Meg  " 
were  at  Staten  Island. 

They  dried  Oscar's  well-earned  "Times"  carefull}- 
on  the  little  quarter  of  the  "  Meg  Merrilies."  It  proved 
that  their  prizes  were  the  "Liverpool  Mercury"  of 
April  29th,  the  "London  Times"  of  the  2«th,  and  a 
"  Hamburger  Correspondent "  of  the  2Glh.  They  could 
not  have  asked  for  better  pickings.  ]STow,  if  no  "  Her- 


268  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

aid"  boat  or  "  Courier"  boat  ran  against  the  "  Clyde" 
in  her  fog-bank,  the  ''Journal  of  Commerce"  should 
electrify  the  world  next  clay. 

Jasper  risked  nothing.  He  left  Oscar  and  the  others 
to  bring  up  the  "  Meg  "  from  Staten  Island.  He  took 
the  9  o'clock  ferry-boat 'himself,  and  came  up  to  the  city 
in  her.  He  ran  up  to  the  editor's  room  of  the  "  Jour 
nal,"  produced  his  prizes,  and  was  received  with  all  the 
honors. 

"It  is  like  the  old  days,"  said  the  young  man  in 
charge.  "  We  have  not  run  in  ne\vs  in  this  fashion 
since  the  year  one.  Have  you  looked  at  the  papers, 
Mr.  Rising  ?  What  is  there  ?  " 

And  while  Jasper  told  in  brief  what  Lord  Melbourne 
had  said,  and  what  the  Chartists  were  doing,  the  head 
of  the  composing-room  had  come  down  in  answer  to 
Mr.  Hale's  message.  "  We  have  ten  days  later  news, 
exclusive,  Mr.  Faust.  See  that  no  bo}',  no  cat,  and  no 
dog  leaves  the  office  before  the  mail  edition  is  in  the 
bags.  We  shall  need  five  full  columns.  It  is  like  old 
times,  Mr.  Faust." 

Mr.  Faust  smiled  intelligently,  and  expressed  his  sat 
isfaction.  And,  though  many  men  and  l)O3Ts  came  into 
the  "  Journal "  office  that  night,  no  one  of  them  was 
permitted  to  come  near  the  compositor's  room  or  the 
press-room,  unless  to  stay  till  daylight  in  those  sacred 
precincts.  These  three  precious  papers  were  the  only 
papers  of  like  purport  on  this  continent.  And  what 
there  was  in  them,  down  to  trials  before  magistrates  in 
London,  appeared  before  an  admiring  world  in  the 
"Journal  of  Commerce"  of  the  next  morning. 

u  Ten  da}rs  later  from  England." 

"  Consols  fall  one-half  per  cent !  " 

"  Change  of  Ministry  in  France." 

And  every  nmn  connected  with  the  press  the  next 
morning  was  gossiping  about  the  stroke  of  divination 
by  which  the  "  Journal  "  had  triumphed,  and  w>  No  other 
paper  had  the  news." 

Jasper  found  Oscar  in  bed  as  he  went  home  after  two 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  after  his  first  night's  observation 


TEN  DA  YS  LATfiML^  269 

^S^fftBljV 

of  editorial  duty.     The  boy  waked  and  rifBfeeA .?  jJBsV^ 
welcomed  his  master  cordially,  and  sprang  out  of  bed. 
"Mr.  Jasper,"  said  he,   "did  you  see  her?     Do  you 
know  who  the  lady  was  ?  " 

"  Not  I,"  said  Jasper. 

"  I  thought  you  not  know,"  said  Oscar,  who,  when  he 
was  excited,  sometimes  lost  his  grammar.  "  Still,  I 
thought  you  not  know  her.  Why,  Mr.  Jasper,  she  was 
Miss  Bertha  !  I  saw  her  as  I  see  you.  I  saw  her  before 
she  run  get  the  paper.  I  saw  her  when  she  jump  on 
seat  and  throw  paper  over.  Yes,  Mr.  Jasper,  it  was 
Miss  Bertha." 

It  was  Bertha !  And  he  had  been  fool  enough  to 
be  watching  the  mate  all  the  time  !  Bertha,  of  course  ! 
That  was  the  reason  they  had  this  Hamburg  newspaper. 
Bertha  on  board  the  "  Clyde  "  !  How  could  he  have 
failed  to  know  her  voice?  "Mr.  Rising!  Mr.  Ris 
ing!"  Well,  there  was  one  comfort!  The  "Clyde" 
could  not  get  up  in  the  fog  till  to-morrow ! 

No  indeed !  And  at  five  the  next  morning,  Mr.  Jas 
per  Rising  was  on  the  alert.  Oscar,  to  his  great  grief, 
could  not  join  him,  but  none  the  less  did  Oscar  sen(J 
the  heartiest,  I  might  almost  say  the  tenderest,  mes 
sages  to  Miss  Bertha.  Jasper  was  at  the  Battery  be 
fore  six,  —  he  had  found  his  boat  and  his  boatmen,  — 
and  in  an  hour  or  so  more,  he  had  found  the  "  Clyde," 
and  was  on  board. 

His  first  interview  was  with  Bertha's  father,  the  one 
member  of  the  family  whom  he  had  never  seen.  Jasper 
found  it  difficult  to  explain  who  he  was  to  poor  Mr. 
Schwarz,  nor  indeed  was  it  very  necessary  that  he 
should  explain  very  minutely.  Enough  to  say  that  he 
was  a  friend  of  his  daughter's,  and  had  come  to  wel 
come  them,  and  to  render  any  help  he  could  in  their 
landing.  Bertha  was  engaged,  for  the  moment,  in  the 
last  cares  of  state-room  life,  and  her  father  did  not  so 
much  as  go  to  call  her.  Jasper  had  to  nurse  his  im 
patience  as  he  could,  by  entertaining  Mr.  Schwarz  with 
accounts  of  his  visit  to  Boston,  on  which  he  looked 
back  with  more  satisfaction  than  he  had  done  only  yes- 


270  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

terday.  It  enabled  him  to  give  to  poor  homesick  Mr. 
Schwarz  the  very  latest  advices  from  his  wife  and  his 
children.  Poor  Max  Schwarz  !  He  did  not  ask  many 
questions  about  human  life,  but  he  did  permit  himself 
to  wonder  why  this  Mr.  Jasper  Rising  took  so  much  in 
terest  in  him  and  his  family.  The  last  person  they 
saw  in  the  Mersey  was  Dr.  Horace  Farquhar,  to  whom 
it  had  been  impossible  to  say  "No"  to,  but  he  would 
come  down  the  river  in  the  tug  and  say  the  last  good 
byes.  And  now  in  America,  the  first  person  he  meets 
is  not  Kaufmann  Baum,  as  he  supposed  it  might  be, 
but  a  }roung  man  who  seems  to  know  his  wife  and 
children  as  intimate  friends,  of  whom  poor  dazed  Max 
Schwarz  does  not  remember  to  have  heard  a  word. 

But  Jasper  could  not  talk  forever  of  Mrs.  Schwarz, 
and  the  interview  began  to  drag,  when,  from  the  com 
panion  door,  emerged  Bertha,  —  not  for  an  instant  sus 
pecting  whom  she  was  to  see.  Dear  Bertha !  Yes ! 
there  is  no  doubt  of  it  for  an  instant,  —  her  flush  and 
her  look  are  of  undisguisable  pleasure.  With  perfect 
frankness  she  approached  Jasper,  and  gave  him  both 
hands,  and  told  him  how  glad  she  was  to  see  him,  while 
he  was  stumbling  over  his  own  satisfaction  at  her 
return.  "  I  knew  it  was  you,  though  I  did  not  recog 
nize  Oscar  till  he  went  into  the  water  —  so  like  himself. 
And  how  is  he?  I  have  thought  of  him  so  often,  and 
told  my  little  German  cousins  so  many  stories  about 
him,  and  Detroit,  and  everything  in  America." 

The  sentence  dragged  a  little  perhaps,  for  now  was 
coming  in  the  natural  shyness,  and  the  suspicion  that 
she  might  have  been  talking  too  fast  took  its  turn. 
And  Jasper  took  the  chance  to  tell  her  of  the  wonder 
she  had  wrought  by  her  happy  toss  of  the  papers.  He 
made  her  laugh  vciy  thoroughly  as  he  described  the 
news-boys'  salutations  as  he  came  down  Broadway. 
Little  they  thought,  lie  said,  who  was  the  heroine  of  the 
occasion  !  And  then  he  abused  his  own  stupidity  that 
he  had  not  reco^ui/cd  her  at  once,  and  confessed  to  her 
that  it  was  to  Oscar  that  he  owed  the  pleasure  of  this 
interview.  Here  Mr.  Schwarz  got  in  a  word  edgewise, 


TEN  DA  YS  LA  TEE.  271 

and  reminded  Jasper  that  Bertha  would  be  glad  to  hear 
something  of  her  mother.  And  again  the  fortunate  fel 
low  began  on  that  tale,  and  again  nursed  to  the  very 
utmost  every  bit  of  family  information  he  had  extorted 
from  Mrs.  Schwarz,  and  concealed  the  inexplicable  ret- 
icency  in  which  she  had  seemed  so  unwilling  to  tell  him 
more.  Yes,  Jasper  made  out  a  good  deal  of  news  for 
people  who  had  had  none  for  six  weeks.  He  could  tell 
of  Kaufmann  Baum  and  of  Aunt  Mary.  He  had  been 
out  to  visit  them  not  long  before.  And  what  perhaps 
pleased  him  most  was  that  Bertha  was  evidently  so  glad 
to  hear  of  Oscar's  fortunes  in  New  York.  Yes  !  and 
Jasper  thought  she  listened  with  a  real  sympathy,  —  he 
knew  she  did,  poor  fellow,  as  he  told  her  of  the  re 
verses  of  his  fortunes. 

Tell  me,  Jasper,  why  do  you  talk  to  the  heiress  so 
bravely  and  so  intimately  now,  when  not  a  year  ago 
you  failed  to  tell  her  that  she  was  queen  of  your  life, 
simply  because  she  was  rich  and  you  were  poor  ? 

Ah !  Jasper  cannot  tell  us,  excepting  this,  that  he 
knows  now  what  a  fool  he  was  then.  And  he  will 
never  again  let  the  highest  pile  of  counters  in  the  world 
keep  him  from  the  woman  who  holds  in  her  hand  the 
thread  of  his  destiny,  —  the  woman  who  would  be  the 
same  to  him  if  she  and  hers  were  beggars.  Would  he 
not  be  proud  and  glad  to  fold  in  his  arms  and  to  shel 
ter  her  from  every  storm,  and  watch  over  and  care  for 
as  if  she  were  a  princess,  even  if  they  all  stood  before 
him  houseless  and  penniless  ?  Jasper  has  learned  wis 
dom  now,  and  he  will  not  make  that  blunder  again ! 

And  so  the  "Clyde"  works  her  way  up  the  bay. 
Yes,  Jasper  is  of  use  as  the  customs  men  appear,  and 
when  at  last  the  landing  is  made,  Kaufmann  Baum  for 
tunately  is  not  here,  as  how  should  he  be  ?  Bertha's 
letters,  naming  the  ship  in  which  they  sail,  are  in  the 
"  Great  Western,"  and  she,  as  we  know,  has  been 
driven  back  to  Bristol.  No,  it  is  for  Jasper,  lucky  boy, 
to  see  the  luggage  divided,  —  some  sent  to  the  Nor 
wich  boat,  and  some  to  the  American  House,  where  he 
has  elected  to  take  them.  It  is  for  Jasper  to  worry 


272  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

through  the  inspection,  and  finally  to  bring  them  to  the 
hotel.  Then  it  is  Jasper  who  brings  Kaufmann  Baum, 
wondering  and  apologetic,  to  meet  them,  —  "  So  sorry 
to  have  missed  them.  No  idea  the}r  were  on  the 
c  Ctyde.'  Busiest  day  in  the-3'ear,  and  had  not  seen 
any  one."  And  Kaufmann  Baum,  in  the  presence  of  a 
stranger,  will  not  ask  an}~thing  about  the  last  turns  of 
the  Singapore  correspondence. 

But  Max  Schwarz  himself,  simple  as  childhood,  has 
no  objection  to  publishing  the  whole  story  of  his  inher 
itance  in  the  "Correspondent"  or  the  uAllgemeine 
Zeitung."  The  first  moment  the  voluble  and  apolo 
getic  Kaufmann  will  give  him,  he  blurts  right  out  in 
German  with  the  whole  truth. 

u  Think  only,  my  Kaufmann,  that  our  bachelor 
brother  should  have  married  in  Sydney  and  have  three 
bo}^s,  who  are  now  men,  to  him  so  fortunately  and  so 
silently  born.  To  think,  Kaufmann,  that  we  should  for 
no  purpose  the  two  oceans  have  crossed  over,  and  that 
we  should  your  thousand  dollars  at  the  same  time 
especially  to  no  purpose  moreover  have  expended. 
But,  Kaufmann,  there  is  no  little  part  of  the  thousand 
dollars  yet  to  3'our  account  remaining,  and  if  we  pros 
per  —  as  we  shall  —  it  can  and  shall  moreover  especially 
in  the  speedy  future  be,  part  by  part,  to  3^011  repaid." 

Kaufmann  tried  in  vain  to  stop  him,  especially  when 
the  thousand  dollars  were  alluded  to.  Jasper  saw  that 
Kaiifmann  was  troubled  by  his  presence,  and  walked 
to  the  bell-rope  and  pulled  it,  and  then  looked  anxiously 
out  of  the  window.  All  the  same  did  he  lincl  it  impos 
sible  not  to  take  in  every  word  of  Schwarz's  harangue. 
What  exquisite  pleasure  did  cveiy  word  of  it  give  the 
poor  fellow  !  What  more  could  to-day  offer  him  ?  To 
find  what  he  had  not  dared  hope,  —  that  Bertha  was  — 
what  she  had  always  been  ! 

The  waiter  answered  the  bell,  —  and  in  a  great  fuss 
Jasper  made  about  ice-water  and  biscuits  and  Xcuchatel 
cheese,  in  asking  Baum's  advice  about  the  cheese,  and 
making  Schwarz  laugh  at  the  waiter's  ignorance,  —  Jas 
per  succeeded  in  carrying  out  the  wish  of  Bertha's 


TEN  DA  YS  LA  TEE.  2  73 

uncle,  and  shutting  off  revelations  which  he  found  inju 
dicious.  Then  Mr.  Baum  hurried  himself  off,  to  see  if 
it  were  not  possible  to  bring  Aunt  Mary  over  to  see 
them  before  the  Boston  boat  left,  and  Jasper  was  left 
with  them  alone  again. 

But  of  course  he  could  not  stay  forever !  How  he 
wished  he  could !  But  he  had  finished  off  every 
excuse.  He  had  told  everything  he  had  to  tell.  The 
boldest  imagination  could  not  pretend  that  Bertha 
wanted  to  walk  in  Broadway.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
boldest  lover  could  hardly  offer  his  hand  and  fortune  to 
Bertha  in  the  ladies'  parlor  of  the  American  House,  in 
presence  of  her  father.  Sir  Charles  Grandison  did 
such  things  on  his  knees,  in  the  presence  of  twenty 
people,  —  but  Young  America  is  too  bashful.  So,  hav 
ing  given  every  order  that  could  be  thought  of  for  the 
comfort  of  his  charge,  Jasper  dragged  himself  away, 
only  promising  to  call  again  in  the  afternoon  to  go  with 
them  to  the  boat  for  Norwich.  He  remembered  the 
good  luck  which  the  Norwich  line  had  brought  him. 

He  was  no  more  certain  of  his  future  than  he  wras 
the  morning  when  he  waked  in  Detroit,  determined  to 
offer  to  Bertha  everything  a  man  can  offer.  Nay,  he 
was  not  so  certain.  Then  he  could  offer  her  a  home,  he 
was  in  an  established  position,  with  a  small  income 
reasonably  certain,  or  he  thought  he  was.  Now  he  was 
nowhere,  and  had  nothing  to  offer,  but  hope  which  was 
eternal,  and  himself.  But  Jasper  knew,  at  heart,  that 
this  was  something  to  offer. 

"  Perhaps  then  first  he  understood 
Himself,  how  wondrously  endued." 

He  walked  on   air,  as   he   went   down  Broadway. 
Where  could  he  kill  what  was  left  of  the  da}-,  till  it 
would  do  to  call  again  with  escort  for  the  boat.     Or 
y  would  he  not  perhaps  go  to  Boston  with  them  ? 

He  went  first  to  the  office  of  the   "  Journal  of  Com 
merce  "  to  congratulate  on  the  "  Ten  Days  Later  from 
England." 
18 


2  74  UPS  AND  D  0  WNS. 

"  Can  you  wait  a  minute,  Mr.  Rising?" 

Wait,  certainly  he  could.  All  poor  Mr.  Rising  had 
to  do  just  then  was  to  "  occupy  the  time,"  and  it  was  a 
comfort  to  know  that  that  was  what  any  one  else  wanted 
him  to  do. 

"  Our  Mr.  Macomber  wanted  to  see  you,  if  you  came 
in." 

So  Jasper  waited.  He  asked  for  what  was  left  of 
the  Hamburg  "  Correspondent,"  and  amused  himself 
with  its  queer  advertisements.  He  read  through  a  pro 
spectus  of  the  Missouri  Iron  Mountain  Railroad,  and 
wondered  whether  in  that  direction  might  not  be  the 
opening  for  his  destiny.  He  waited  and  wondered,  and 
was  just  leaving,  lest  he  should  seem  perfectly  worthless 
to  all  the  gentlemen  in  the  office,  when  Mr.  Macomber 
appeared. 

Mr.  Macomber  took  him  into  his  private  room,  and 
showed  him  some  correspondence  which  he  had  had 
with  some  gentlemen  in  New  Altona,  who  were  inter 
ested  in  the  "  Gazette,"  a  newspaper  published  there. 
The  old  editor  had  just  now  gone  into  a  coal  specula 
tion  in  Western  Virginia,  and  the  paper  was  publishing 
itself,  as  newspapers  sometimes  will  when  they  have  been 
running  for  some  }~ears.  But  the  proprietors  needed 
better  charge  of  it  than  this,  and  they  had  sent  to  Mr. 
Macomber  to  ask  him  if  they  could  not  find  him  some 
man  of  some  newspaper  experience,  who  would  take 
hold  and  edit  their  paper  for  them.  "  Some  one  who 
has  some  snap  to  him  and  some  sense,  if  such  a  man 
can  be  found."  This  was  the  order.  How  often,  alas, 
is  that  order  vainly  given  !  But  it  had  seemed  to  Mr. 
Macomber,  the  night  before,  as  Jasper  Rising  sat  trans 
lating  German,  that  he  would  "  fill  the  order."  And 
he  hud  asked  Jasper  to  wait,  that  he  might  ask  him  if 
he  would  like  the  position. 

"  I  know  nothing  of  printing,  practically/'  said  Jas 
per,  a  good  deal  amazed. 

"  I  do  not  see  that  that  is  necessary.  They  have  a 
very  good  foreman  there.  I  sent  him  myself,  from  our 
own  ofiice,  a  man  named  SchafFer." 


TEN  DA  TS  LA  TEE.  2  75 

"  I  have  never  been  regularly  connected  with  any 
journal,"  said  Jasper,  regretting  for  the  first  time  that 
he  had  declined  to  be  one  of  seventeen  editors  of 
"  Harvardiana." 

"I  do  not  see  that  that  is  of  any  consequence,"  said 
Mr.  Macomber,  who  liked  his  man,  and  was  determined 
to  serve  one  who  had  served  him. 

"  Take  time  to  think  of  it,  Mr.  Rising.  They  offer 
fifteen  hundred  dollars  a  year,  and  a  quarter  of  the 
profits.  If  you  like  the  place,  you  will  own  the  New 
Altona  'Gazette'  before  you  are  five  years  older. 
Good-morning,  Mr.  Rising.  John,  tell  Mr.  Flanders, 
the  roller-man,  I  can  see  him  now." 

And  Jasper  retired,  wondering  yet  once  more  to  see 
the  springs  which  move  the  world.  Bertha  Schwarz 
had  given  to  him  the  place  to  stand  in  which  now  he 
would  offer  to  her  ! 

No  !  Jasper.  It  is  not  Bertha  who  gives  it  to  3^011. 
It  is  "Jasper "who  gives  it  to  "Mr.  Rising."  The 
man  who  always  does  the  duty  that  comes  next  his 
hand,  finds  that  the  world  needs  his  help  as  much  as 
he  needs  to  help  the  world. 


276  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 


CHAPTER    XXVI. 

THE   HEROINES    OF    SCOTLAND. 

"TT  was  the  end  of  a  sultry,  muggy  day  in  June.  The 
"  general  work  of  the  shop  was  done  ;  and  the  greater 
body  of  the  hands  had  gone  home  rejoicing  in  the  length 
of  the  day  after  work  was  done.  But  Oscar,  who  was 
at  this  time  compassing  the  mysteries  of  the  paint-shop, 
had  a  particular  matter  on  hand  which  had  been  in 
trusted  to  him  ;  and  he  staid  long  after  the  others, 
smoothing  with  pumice-stone  the  last  coat  of  paint 
which  had  been  laid  on  preparatory  to  the  final  coat  of 
varnish,  which  was  to  be  so  perfect,  that  it  might  serve 
for  the  mirror  of  the  bride  for  whom  the  carriage  was 
ordered.  Hot  with  the  exercise  involved  in  the  pumice- 
work,  stripped  to  his  shirt,  and  with  his  face  streaked 
in  dark  brown  lines  by  the  dust  of  the  dry  paint  which 
he  had  been  rubbing  down,  Oscar  ran  down  to  the 
counting-room  to  be  sure  to  catch  Mr.  Lowndes  before 
he  left  to  go  up  town. 

He  was  but  just  in  time.  Mr.  Lowndes  was  standing 
with  his  hat  on,  and  his  hand  on  the  little  bar  which 
separated  the  office  from  the  rcst  of  a  long  ware-room. 
His  manner  was  the  determined  manner  of  a  tired  man 
resolved  to  be  civil,  though  at  heart  he  is  desperately 
cross.  Oscar  saw  that  he  was  speaking  to  a  woman, 
and  stepped  back  himself,  that  he  might  not  appear  to 
interrupt  the  interview.  Women  were  not  frequent 
visitors  in  the  carriage-stop.  He  did  not  attend,  there 
fore  (he  tried  not  to  attend)  ;  and  he  did  not  catch 
the  last  words  which  Mr.  Lowndes  addressed  to  the 
stranger. 

"  It  is  impossible  for  me  to  subscribe,"  that  gentle- 


THE  IIEE01NES  OF  SCOTLAND.  277 

man  said  :  "  that  is  the  reason  wiry  I  will  not  take  your 
time  by  looking  at  the  book.  I  know  I  shall  not  sub 
scribe  :  you  would  know  it  too,  if  }TOU  knew  how  many 
portfolios  and  how  many  books  have  been  brought  here 
this  week  by  agents,  There  was  no  kindness,  madam, 
in  the  man  who  set  you  on  this  duty." 

"  I  found  that  out  long  ago,"  said  the  young  woman 
whom  he  addressed.  "But  I  hare  begun,  and  I  must 
go  through.  Good-evening,  sir."  And  her  voice  broke 
a  little  as  she  said  "  good-evening,"  and  turned  awa}T. 

Oscar  had  stepped  back  upon  the  stairway ;  and  at 
this  instant  he  returned, — just  in  time  to  catch  the 
words,  "  Good-evening,  sir,"  and  to  note  this  breaking 
of  the  voice.  The  poor  girl  was  ready  to  cr}^. 

Mr.  Lowndes  did  not  notice  it,  and  turned  away, 
almost  impatiently,  to  the  window,  that  she  might  go, 
and  that  he  might  be  done  with  her.  She  crossed  the 
shop  to  go  out  by  the  outer  door,  which  was  opposite 
Oscar's  ;  mistook  the  door,  though  it  stood  open  ;  and 
passed  instead  into  a  passage  which  went  across  to  the 
leather-room. 

Oscar  sprang  forward.  "  You  have  missed  the  way, 
madam."  She  half  turned  to  thank  him.  But  by  this 
time  the  poor  girl's  face  was  covered  with  tears,  which 
she  did  not  wish  to  show,  so  that  she  only  half  turned, 
and  almost  awkwardly  slid  into  the  doorway  which  he 
indicated.  This  time,  however,  there  was  something 
in  her  movements  which  attracted  Oscar's  attention. 
He  sprang  forward  himself,  so  as  to  see  her  face  fully 
as  she  turned  to  go  down  the  stairs. 

There  was  no  mistake.  The  crying  girl  was  Ruth 
Cottam ! 

"Miss  Ruth,  Miss  Ruth  !  is  it  you?"  he  cried  ;  and 
he  sprang  across  the  entiy-way  to  detain  her,  and  all 
but  offered  her  his  chocolate-colored  hand. 

Ruth  turned,  amazed,  as  well  she  might.  If  her  tears 
had  not  blinded  her,  she  might  well  be  excused,  that  in 
that  face  —  grimy  with  the  sweat  of  Oscar's  brow,  for 
the  last  six  hours  ground  in  with  fine  powder  of  van- 
dj^ke  brown  reduced  by  pumice  to  impalpable  dust — she 


278  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

did  not  recognize  the  speaker.  The  moisture  of  his 
e}'es  had  left  two  circles  perfectly  white  in  the  muddy 
mixture.  For  the  rest,  in  the  several  wrinkles  or 
dimples  caused  by  the  play  of  muscles,  the  coloring- 
matter  had  hardened  somewhat,  and  was  darkest. 
Between  these  two  extremes  the  }roung  man's  face  wore 
every  shade  of  brown,  from  a  dark  yellow,  through 
chocolate,  into  what  seemed  black.  His  hair  was 
mostly  hidden  by  a  square  paper  cap,  once  of  the  color 
of  brown  paper,  now  of  such  various  tints  as  the 
exigencies  of  carriage-painting,  or  the  whims  of  fellow- 
workmen  in  their  leisure  hours,  had  contributed.  A 
shirt,  once  of  blue  linen  stripe,  now  bore  colors  more 
various  and  more  festive  than  Joseph's ;  and  a  like 
effect,  suggestive  of  a  kaleidoscope,  had  been  wrought 
in  upon  the  overall  hempen  pantaloons  which  he  wore. 
Ruth  did  not  recognize  Oscar  ;  and  no  wonder.  So  far 
as  personal  aspect  went,  there  was  little  to  remind  her 
of  the  companion  of  the  happy  October  day,  when 
together  he  and  she  went  from  point  to  point  on  the 
Little  Manito,  pricing  lumber,  and  talking  wood-craft. 
But,  be  he  who  he  might,  he  knew  her  name  was  Ruth  ; 
and  it  was  a  long,  long  time  since  any  one  had  called 
her  by  that  name.  Certainly  Oscar  never  had  ;  only, 
poor  boy,  he  had  thought  that  name,  and  written  that 
name,  many,  many  times  as  the  winter  had  gone  b}r. 
lie  had  read  it  in  his  Bible  till  he  could  repeat  the 
pretty  pastoral  there  ;  and  it  was  far  more  natural  to 
him  in  this  unexpected  exigency  to  cry  out  "Miss 
Ruth,"  than  it  would  be  "Miss  Cottam."  All  the  more 
quickly,  of  course,  Ruth  turned,  and  with  all  the  more 
surprise. 

"  You  do  not  know  me  ;  }TOU  do  not  remember  me. 
I  am"  — 

"  Yes,"  said  Ruth,  smiling  this  time,  even  though  her 
cheeks  were  wet  with  those  tell-tale  tears,  "  I  do  know 
you  :  I  know  your  voice.  I  did  not  know  you  till  you 
spoke." 

"  I  am  so  glad  to  see  you  \  "  said  Oscar,  saying  first 
what  he  thought  deepest,  and  not  hinting  at  his  sur- 


THE  HEROINES  OF  SCOTLAND.  279 

prise.  "  Could  you.  wait  one  minute  at  the  foot  of  the 
stairs,  till  I  can  do  my  errand  with  Mr.  Lowndes?  " 

And  Ruth  said  she  would  wait.     And  she  waited. 

The  errand  was  only  to  tell  Mr.  Lowndes  on  what 
day  he  might  be  sure  that  the  new  phaeton  should  be 
finished  which  Mr.  Ililliard  was  to  give  to  Miss  Clarissa 
Folger  for  a  wedding  present.  Oscar  had  satisfied 
himself  on  this  point ;  and  on  this  point  he  reported. 
Mr.  Lowndes  thanked  him,  —  thanked  him  for  staying, 
to  be  sure,  and  to  tell  him ;  and  then  said  kindly, 
"  Now  go  home,  nry  bo}r ;  never  let  me  hear  of  you  as 
in  the  shop  till  midnight  again ; "  and  they  both 
laughed,  for  Oscar  knew  what  he  meant.  Oscar  said 
he  would  lock  the  outer  doors  ;  and  Mr.  Lowndes  went 
down,  brushing  by  Ruth  Cottam  quite  unconsciously  as 
she  stood  waiting  in  the  doorway. 

Oscar  followed  close  upon  him.  "  "Wait  a  few  min 
utes  more,  Miss  Ruth,  pray  do,  till  I  can  be  fit  to  walk 
with  vou ;  and  then  I  will  go  with  you  wherever  you 
will  go." 

And  Ruth  said  he  should  find  her  on  the  sidewalk ; 
and  he,  poor  fellow,  rushed  back  to  his  ablutions  and  his 
toilet.  There  was  every  temptation  to  make  them  short ; 
there  was  every  temptation  to  make  them  careful.  One 
must  not  keep  Ruth  waiting ;  one  must  not  join  her, 
looking  as  if  he  were  Red  Jacket  or  Black  Hog.  Os 
car  did  his  quickest  and  his  best  together,  thinking  all 
the  time  of  the  words  that  he  had  just  spoken,  and  re 
membering,  "  Where  thou  goest,  I  will  go  ;  where  thou 
stayest,  I  will  stay."  Would  Ruth  ever  say  to  him 
what  he  had  just  now  said  so  gladly  to  her?  Dear  Os 
car  !  And  3'et  he  had  never  seen  Ruth  Cottam  but  in 
that  visit  of  twentj'-four  hours  on  her  island.  Did 
Ferdinand  see  Miranda  longer  upon  hers  ?  And  Oscar 
had  twice  written  to  Ruth,  and  had  had  two  short  lit 
tle  answers  from  her,  which,  as  he  ran  down  the  stair- 
wa}~,  lay  against  his  heart  in  a  choice  letter-case  he  had 
bought  for  them.  "  Where  thou  gocst,  Ruth,  I  will  go  ; 
where  thou  stayest,  1  will  sta}V  Only  this  he  did  not 
dare  to  say  aloud.  He  locked  the  outer  door  :  he  looked 


280  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

up  the  street,  down  the  street ;  there  was  Ruth  Cottam 
walking  slowly,  and  waiting  as  she  had  promised  him. 
She  came  up  to  him  gladly,  and  took  frankty  and  with 
out  reserve  the  hand  which  he  offered  to  her. 

"  I  must  beg  your  pardon,"  stammered  Oscar,  who 
was  fairly  out  of  breath,  "  for  asking  you  so  coolly  to 
wait  in  the  street  for  me.  But  it  wras  such  a  surprise 
to  see  you,  and  such  a  pleasure  !  "  he  added  very  shyly. 

"  You  are  very  kind,  Mr.  Esmark,"  said  Ruth.  u  I 
was  very  glad  to  see  —  any  friend,"  she  said  after  a  mo 
ment  ;  "  and  I  am  sure  I  may  call  you  a  friend.  In 
deed,  Mr.  Esmark,"  she  said,  with  a  moment's  hesitation 
again,  "I  need  some  one's  advice  sadly  ;  and  to  see  any 
one  I  had  ever  seen  before,  in  this  terrible  loneliness, 
which  makes  me  shudder  now,  —  that  is  of  itself  a 
pleasure."  Poor  Ruth's  voice  faltered  again  ;  and  she 
almost  broke  down. 

"  Do  not  try  to  talk  if  }*ou  are  tired,"  said  Oscar 
shyly  again ;  only  anxious  to  relieve  trouble  which  he 
only  partly  understood.  "  Do  not  try  to  walk  if  you 
are  tired.  Shall  I  not  stop  a  stage?  Where  are  you 
going?" 

"I  am  going  —  or  I  suppose  I  am  going  —  to  this 
place,"  said  Ruth,  taking  from  the  book  in  her  hand  a 
soiled  and  broken  printed  card,  which  showed  that  Mrs. 
Sproul  kept  a  "fashionable  boarding-house"  in  Varick 
Street.  "  I  am  going  there,  unless  I  can  find  some 
place  which  I  like  better  ; "  and  the  poor  child  looked 
up  jealously  toward  the  sun,  to  see  how  much  of  da}~- 
light  was  left  to  her  tired  feet  before  she  must  give  up 
the  wretched  liberty  she  had  enjoyed  since  she  left  Mrs. 
Sproul's  fashionable  boarding-house  that  morning. 

Again  Oscar  saw  that  he  had  said  the  wrong  thing ; 
that  is,  that  lie  had  given  pain  where  he  had  not  meant 
to.  But  Oscar  was  no  fool,  by  which  I  mean  he  let  his 
instincts  guide  him  when  his  judgment  was  at  fault  for 
want  of  information;  and  lie  said  boldly: 

"  You  are  in  trouble,  Miss  Ruth.  Have  you  no 
friends  here?  How  long  are  you  here?  I  wish  3-011 
would  let  me  help  you  if  I  can."  He  was  almost 


THE  HEROINES  OF  SCOTLAND.  281 

tempted  to  say,  "  advise  3*011."  And  how  he  wished 
that  his  "  master"  was  not  at  New  Altona.  For,  for  ten 
da}'s  past,  Jasper  had  been  pressing  his  arrangements 
for  cany  ing  forward  "  The  Gazette." 

"  I  am  in  trouble,  Mr.  Esmark  ;  and  as  for  friends, 
you  are  the  only  friend  I  have  this  side  of  Cold  Water. 
I  have  made  a  mistake  in  coming  here ;  and  the  best 
thing  I  can  do  now  is  to  go  away.  But  I  cannot  do  that, 
so  far  as  I  can  see,  till,  till  —  I  can  sell  some  copies 
of  this  picture-book."  And  she  looked  with  an  air  of 
utter  contempt  on  the  portfolio  which  she  carried,  in 
which  were  her  specimens  of 

"THE   HEROINES   OF   SCOTLAND," 

A  SERIES  OF 

EXQUISITE     LINE     E  K  a  R  A 

THE  FIRST  MASTERSr>;»>"     ^y,'     PHB 
To  be  published  by  subscription- only. 

NEW  YORK:  SCHMIDT  AND  PUJ^RAOJBER. 

. 


what  are  you  doing,  Miss 
selling  books  on  subscription  ?  " 

Then  Ruth  explained  to  him  at  some  length,  as  was 
necessary  if  she  explained  at  all,  that,  at  the  end  of 
the  winter  term,  she  had  determined  that  she  would 
come  to  the  East  to  some  good  school,  and  spend  six 
solid  months  in  study  before  she  undertook  to  teach 
again.  Her  uncle  had  brought  her  in  his  schooner  to 
Detroit ;  and,  with  such  economy  as  she  found  possible, 
she  had  wrought  her  way  to  Albany,  having  been  at 
tracted  loy  a  lying  advertisement,  which  by  ill  luck  she 
had  seen  in  a  stray  number  of  "  The  Ladies'  Monitor," 
which  offered  all  the  advantages  of  all  universities,  at 
the  nourishing  collegiate  Institute  at  Bellmont,  in  the 
beautiful  village  of  Stitchkill,  on  the  North  River.  La 
dies  could  be  received  at  any  time,  could  study  any 
thing  ;  and  the  charges  wrould  be  only  a  hundred  and 
eighty  dollars  a  }'ear,  of  which  a  considerable  part 


282  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

could  be  earned  by  the  students  in  various  handiworks 
of  pencil,  needle,  and  pen ;  which  handiworks  were  to 
be  taught  to  them  and  explained  at  length  when  they 
arrived.  Poor  Ruth  must  be  pardoned.  There  was 
noboclv  in  the  Great  or  Little  Manito  who  knew  any 
better  than  she.  She  believed  it  because  it  was  printed 
in  "  The  Ladies'  Monitor,"  and  from  her  hard-earned 
wages  she  had  spent  near  twenty  dollars  before  she 
arrived  at  the  landing  at  Stitchkifl.  An  unpromising 
place  was  Stichkill.  But  a  little  inquiry  satisfied  her 
that  an  unpromising  place  might  stand  one  step  higher 
than  a  promising  place  like  Bellmont ;  for  the  promises 
of  Bellmont  had  been  scattered  on  the  forty-eight  winds 
of  heaven.  The  institute  had  been  sold  by  the  sheriff 
three  months  before.  Ruth  told  this  story  in  brief  to 
Oscar,  as  they  walked,  and  more  briefly  told  how  she 
had  then  gone,  first  to  Albany,  next  to  Hudson,  next 
to  Nyack,  and,  last  of  all,  had  come  to  New  York,  still 
thinking  that  there  must  be  somewhere  some  academy 
for  young  ladies,  where  her  waning  purse  might  provide 
for  her  at  least  a  half-year's  schooling,  and  still  dis 
appointed. 

"Mr.  Esmark,  you  have  no  idea  how  fast  money 
goes  when  you  are  frightened,  —  how  frightfully  fast  it 
goes  !  Every  porter,  every  cabman,  every  hotel-keeper, 
has  seemed  to  me  to  take  more  from  me  than  the  one 
before."  Ruth  had  written  to  her  uncle :  she  would 
have  been  wiser  to  go  to  him.  But  she  could  not  believe, 
now  she  was  here,  that  it  was  not  best  for  her  to  stay 
here :  and  that  mistake,  for  it  was  a  mistake,  had  led 
to  her  last  mistake  of  all,  —  to  her  selling  herself  as  an 
agent  for  the  circulation  of  "  The  Heroines  of  Scot 
land." 

She  had  found  her  way  to  Mrs.  SprouFs  by  means  of 
an  advertisement,  and  to  Schmidt  and  Pusgrabber's  by 
means  of  another.  These  persons  —  Hebrew  by  b^ood, 
countenance,  action,  and  speech,  according  to  Ruth's 
description —  were  established  in  Nassau  Street.  They 
had  cross-examined  her  very  sharply,  because,  they  said, 
it,  was  necessa^  to  employ  only  ladies  of  the  first  re- 


THE  HEROINES  OF  SCOTLAND.  283 

spectability ;  and,  having  found  out  her  little  histoiy, 
they  had  extorted  from  her  all  the  rest  of  her  money, 
except  four  or  five  dollars,  as  a  deposit ;  which,  they 
said,  was  invariably  paid  by  agents  who  could  not  give 
a  good  city  reference,  as  security  for  cost  of  outfit  and 
honesty  in  accounting.  And  then,  providing  her  with 
the  usual  "  outfit,"  they  had  sent  the  delicate,  innocent 
girl  out  into  the  streets  of  the  worst  city  in  America, 
on  the  most  forlorn  business  of  the  age,  and  in  the  very 
worst  place  for  succeeding  in  it.  It  is  no  wonder  she 
had  not  obtained  a  single  subscriber  ;  the  only  wonder 
is,  that  even  her  steady  courage  had  not  failed  her  in  an 
hour,  instead  of  carrying  her  through  that  whole  inex 
pressible  day  of  impertinences  and  disappointments. 

Ruth  Cottam  was  not  in  the  habit  of  throwing  her 
self  upon  the  help  of  others.  She  had  paddled  her  own 
canoe  too  long,  and  in  waters  too  rapid,  to  shrink  from 
the  responsibility  of  her  own  blunders.  But  after  a 
wearing  and  disappointing  day  in  early  June,  when  she 
had  hardly  heard  a  voice  all  da}T  but  her  own  as  she 
pointed  out  the  beauties  of  the  "  Heroines  of  Scotland," 
and  the  replies,  now  harsh,  and  now  gentle,  of  those 
with  whom  she  dealt,  there  was  no  wonder  if  Ruth  Cottam 
did  feel  a  sensation  of  exquisite  relief  to  find  herself  side 
by  side  with  some  person  who  had  seen  her  before,  and 
knew  something  about  her.  If  she  were  run  over  by 
an  omnibus  now,  there  would  at  least  be  some  one  to 
write  West  to  her  uncle,  and  tell  him  that  she  was 
dead.  Such  was  the  cheerful  reflection  Ruth  made  as 
Oscar  carefully  piloted  her  across  a  street,  and  she  felt 
the  contrast  between  his  protection  and  the  necessity 
of  running  the  gauntlet  alone,  as  she  had  done  so  often. 
Then  Oscar  was  so  wildly  S3'mpathetic  !  His  English 
was  not  sufficient  for  his  wrath,  when,  in  their  talk,  the 
sins  or  the  peccadilloes  of  one  or  another  innkeeper  or 
school-keeper  came  forward  in  Ruth's  story.  Here  was 
some  one  who  did  not  think  she  was  a  fool,  who  did  not 
wonder  even  as  much  as  she  did  herself,  now  she  had 
learned  ten  days'  worth  of  the  craft  and  subtlety  of  the 
world.  Nay,  it  was  not  a  little  thing  that  Oscar  insisted 


284  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

on  taking  the  dead  weight  of  "  The  Heroines  of  Scot 
land."  After  a  little  demur,  Ruth  permitted  him  ;  and 
the  relief  from  that  drag  was  beyond  account.  When 
he  joined  her  in  the  street,  Ruth  had  hardly  dried  her 
tears  from  her  last  disappointment.  As  she  told,  briefly 
as  might  be,  her  little  story,  the  tears,  to  her  rage, 
would  break  forth  again  and  again.  But  the  3'oung 
fellow  had  the  very  instinct  of  tenderness  ;  and  it  gave 
him  tact  which  a  diplomatist  might  have  been  proud  of. 
Without  knowing  that  he  soothed  her,  he  soothed  her  ; 
and  she,  without  knowing  that  she  was  soothed,  was 
soothed.  Refore  they  had  walked  ten  squares,  Ruth 
was  laughing  ;  before  they  had  walked  twent}',  she  felt 
herself  really  rested ;  and,  when  they  arrived  at  the 
unsatisfactory  boarding-house,  she  was  fairly  cheerful, 
brave,  and  strong  again,  —  strong  enough  to  be  pro 
voked  with  herself  that  she  had  broken  down  before. 

Ruth  had  dropped  a  word  intimating  that  she  was 
dissatisfied  with  her  quarters ;  and  Oscar  had  turned 
over,  as  they  walked,  the  somewhat  difficult  question 
whether  he  should  advise  her  about  changing  them. 
Failing  any  solution  of  this  question,  he  said  nothing 
till  they  approached  the  steps  of  the  house,  and  could 
see  that  some  of  the  "  boarders  "  had  already  gathered 
on  a  modified  stoop  there.  Then  he  had  to  speak,  and 
spoke  from  impulse.  "You  spoke  as  if  you  disliked 
this  place,  Miss  Ruth.  I  know  the  city  better  than 
you.  Let  me  help  you  find  a  better  place  to-night  or 
to-morrow  ?  " 

But  Ruth  was  all  right  again  now,  and  brave  enough 
to  meet  forty  old  harridans,  though  they  were  assembled 
in  convention  to  overwhelm  her.  "To-morrow,  per 
haps,  Mr.  Esmark,  I  may  trouble  you,  if  there  is  any 
moment  when  I  can  see  you  ;  but  to-night  I  am  too 
glad  to  go  to  bed  to  think  of  moving."  Brave  Ruth! 
as  if  she  knew  how  she  was  going  to  settle  her  little 
account  with  Mrs.  Sproul  in  the  morning.  Oscar  was 
eager  to  say  that  he  would  meet  her  at  air^  time  she 
would  appoint ;  and,  to  arrange  this,  passed  up  the  steps 
with  her,  and  threaded  the  jungle  of  impertinent  starers 


THE  HEROINES  OF  SCOTLAND.  285 

of  both  sexes  who  crowded  the  somewhat  narrow  way, 
and,  as  Oscar  thought,  were  none  too  ready  to  make 
room.  He  repressed  the  natural  desire  to  engage  them 
all,  to  strike  their  heads  stoutl}'  against  each  other, 
and  to  leave  them  on  the  ground  even  more  senseless 
than  they  were.  But  to  do  this,  might,  on  the  whole, 
embarrass  Ruth  more  than  it  wTould  help  her ;  and 
Oscar  followed  her,  as  peacefully  as  Una's  lion  would 
have  done,  to  the  soup-and-onion-scented  dining-room 
of  the  hostelry,  which  proved  to  be  also  its  reception- 
hall. 

"  I  will  call  in  the  morning,  at  any  time  }TOU  name  ; 
and  then  I  can  introduce  you  to  some  ladies,  who  are 
friends  of  mine,  who  can  advise  you  about  }Tour  home. 
Or,  as  I  said,  we  have  still  a  long  evening  before  us,  if 
you  had  rather  go  now." 

Oh,  no  !  Ruth  only  wanted  rest  now.  And  Ruth, 
who  had  grown  up  among  people  who  were  not  ashamed 
of  work,  knew  very  well  that  Oscar  Esmark  ought  not 
to  be  making  calls  on  ladies  on  the  morning  of  Wed 
nesday.  She  said,  if  he  would  cross  over  at  noon  from 
his  shop  to  the  little  book-shop  she  had  noticed  on  the 
corner,  she  would  be  glad  then,  perhaps,  to  advise  with 
him ;  or  she  would  tell  him  if  she  needed  any  advice. 

Oscar  hated  to  go  away.  But  there  must  be  a  last 
moment.  "  Before  I  go,  there  is  one  thing  more,"  he 
said. 

"And  pray  what  is  that?"  said  Ruth,  who  did  not 
quite  make  out  a  sort  of  nervous  eagerness  in  which 
Oscar  was  talking. 

u  You  ought  to  guess,"  he  said.  "  For  a  bookseller's 
agent,  you  show  great  indifference  to  your  business. 

"  Mr.  Jasper  Rising  is  very  desirous  to  take  early 
impressions  of  i  The  Heroines  of  Scotland,'  on  large 
paper  ;  and  he  wishes  you  to  take  his  subscription  for 
the  whole  series. 

"  The  Young  Men's  Christian  Union  wants  to  take 
one  set  of  the  small-paper  size ;  and  Mr.  Esmark,  a 
friend  of  yours,  wants  a  set  in  large  paper  also.  I  will 


286  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

take  the  copies  of  numbers  one  and  two  myself :  I  see 
you  have  them  here." 


.. 


Mr.  Esmark,  what  nonsense  !  You  shall  do  no  such 
thing,"  cried  Ruth. 

Oscar  looked  up  with  the  gravity  of  a  Norwegian 
bishop,  affecting  not  to  understand  her.  In  his  own 
language  he  spoke  ten  or  twelve  words,  which,  of  course, 
she  did  not  understand,  as  if  they  were  entire  strangers. 
Then  he  selected,  with  care,  two  large-paper  sets,  now 
pretending  to  set  aside  one  or  two  copies  as  damaged. 
Then  he  picked  out  with  equal  care  another  set.  Ruth, 
half  amused  and  half  provoked,  continued  her  protest 
till  she  saw  Mrs.  Sproul  had  made  a  pretence  to  come 
into  the  room.  Oscar  saw  this  too,  with  the  back  of  his 
head.  That  boy  saw  everything. 

"  I  shall  pay  you,  ma'amselle  —  how  you  call  him  ?  — 
I  shall  you  make  recompense  en  avance  pour  tous  les 
series,  —  for  all  the  series,  ma'amselle.  Pardonnez 
moi.  Twelve  dollars  for  the  small  book,  je  crois,  I  be 
lieve,  ma'amselle,  fifteen  and  fifteen  for  the  two  large 
book.  It  is,  je  crois,  ma'amselle,  forty-two  dollar  in 
all.  Le  voila,  ma'amselle."  And  he  forced  forty-two 
dollars  on  the  unwilling  girl,  who  was  not  quick 
enough  to  see  why  this  French  jabber  had  come  in. 
But  in  an  instant  she  caught  his  drift,  when  he  said 
very  slowly,  in  an  undertone,  "Prencz,  prenez,  madem 
oiselle,  la  vieille  chatte  voit  tout."  And  Ruth  counted 
the  money  slowh",  and  gave  him  throe  receipts,  with  the 
precision  and  business  of  a  veteran.  She  bade  him 
good-evening  with  just  the  formality  which  her  position 
as  a  book-vender,  and  his  as  a  subscriber,  demanded. 
And  he  carefully  rolled  up  "  The  Heroines  of  Scotland  " 
as  if  it  were  the  most  precious  purchase  of  many  years, 
as  indeed  to  Oscar  it  was.  And  so  they  parted. 

It  was  a  valuable  study  to  see  the  courtesy  of  Mrs. 
Sproul  to  the  young  lady,  who  had,  at  least,  forty-two 
dollars  in  her  pocket ;  albeit,  when  she  came  into  the 
room,  her  intention  had  been  to  warn  this  young  woman 
to  vacate  her  attic. 

"  Hare  you  not  very  tired,  Miss  Cottam?    The  day 


THE  HEBOINES  OF  SCOTLAND.  287 

is  so  'ot !  No,  do  not  go  up  stairs  till  hi  'ave  'ad 
ha  nice  dish  of  tea  brought  'ere.  Meg  his  bringing  hit ; 
but  these  Hirish  hare  so  slow  !  " 

Ruth  was  amazed  at  the  courtesy.  It  was  a  side  of 
Mrs.  Sproul  which  she  had  not  seen  before.  But  Ruth 
had  never  before  received  forty-two  dollars  when  Mrs. 
Sproul  was  standing  by. 

It  was  nearty  nine  o'clock  the  same  evening,  when 
George  Withers,  the  minister  of  the  Church  of  Life 
Eternal  in  New  York,  came  home,  wilted  and  dusty 
after  his  tramp,  ride,  sail,  and  tramp  of  the  afternoon. 
Harlem  on  the  north,  and  Staten  Island  on  the  south, 
had  been  the  range  of  his  pastoral  beat  of  that  day. 
He  had  compassed  some  twenty  miles,  had  wrought  out 
two  or  three  of  the  romances  of  daily  life  one  step 
nearer  to  their  denouement,  had  buried  an  old  man,  had 
baptized  a  child,  had  married  two  emigrants,  and  had  just 
now  given  his  deposition  in  a  matter  where  his  testimony 
was  needed  in  Australia.  He  had  now  washed  himself, 
and  put  on  a  white  jacket ;  and  his  daughter  Annie  had 
persuaded  him  to  let  her  bring  his  tea  into  the  study  where 
she  was  sure  it  was  a  little  cooler.  The  large  window  gave 
access  to  a  narrow  piazza  ;  and  the  odor  of  the  grape- 
blossoms  came  in  as  they  sat.  Withers  sipped  his  tea ; 
and  Annie  sat  at  his  feet  on  a  little  cushion  as  he  told 
her  the  story  of  the  day.  Just  then  the  door-bell  rang. 

"  No  rest  for  the  wicked,"  groaned  Withers.  But 
Annie  started  to  her  feet.  "Dear  papa,  you  shall 
not  move  a  step.  Rest  for  the  wicked,  indeed  ?  How 
do  you  know  it  is  not  the  gas-man  or  the  census-man  ? 
I  understand  them  both  a  great  deal  better  than  you 
do." 

But,  alas  !  Christine  brought  up  a  card.  "  Mr.  Oscar 
Esmark." 

"  Who  in  the  world  is  Oscar  Esmark,  Annie?  " 

"  Oscar  Esmark,  —  why  don't  you.  remember?  he  is 
that  young  Swede,  no,  Norwegian,  who  is  in  the  Bible- 
class.  He  came  to  our  reception  in  April.  Don't  you 


288  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

go  near  him,  papa :  you  sit  here.  I  will  see  Mr. 
Esmark." 

"  He  was  very  particular,"  said  Christine  ;  and  then, 
catching  Annie's  warning  e}Te,  she  stopped  abruptly. 

"Well,  Christine,  particular  about  what?" 

Christine  could  blunder,  but  could  not  lie,  in  her 
young  mistress's  service,  and  was  obliged  to  confess 
that  the  gentleman  was  very  particular  that  it  was  Dr. 
Withers  he  wished  to  see. 

"  My  clear  child,  he  wants  to  '  ask  papa.'  " 

"  Nonsense,  my  dear  father !  listen  to  reason :  you 
are  tired  to  death.  Do  you.  wish  your  murder  to  be  on 
this  young  man's  conscience  ?  '  Executed  }*esterday, 
at  the  tombs,  the  young  Norwegian  who  took  the  life 
of  Dr.  Withers  —  by  untimely  boring.'  Do  you  wish 
anything  so  hard  as  that  for  a  young  man  you  never 
heard  of  till  now  ?  " 

"  My  dear  girl,  listen  to  reason.  He  has  come  for 
some  purpose.  Maybe  he  wants  to  be  married.  Maybe 
it  is  an  occasion  not  so  sad,  —  perhaps  the  funeral  of  a 
child  and  her  mother.  Anyway,  he  wants  to  see  me  ; 
and  I  choose  to  see  him." 

"  Papa,  3*ou  are  more  unreasonable  every  day.  I 
shall  see  him  myself,  and  tell  him  you  are  very  ill,  and 
that  he  must  call  to-morrow,  at  nine." 

"  To-morrow  at  nine  I  shall  be  at  the  meeting  of  the 
Hospital  Directors.  Seriously,  dear  child,  this  may  be 
life  and  death.  If  I  did  not  mean  to  see  the  man,  I 
should  have  said  so  twenty-seven  years  ago,  before  I 
was  ordained,  and  should  have  taken  to  sign-painting 
instead  of  preaching.  Christine,  show  Mr.  Esniark  up 
stairs." 

And  in  a  moment  Oscar  entered.  If,  as  he  waited 
down  stairs,  he  had  felt  himself  a  little  embarrassed 
about  the  counsel  he  was  to  ask  of  Dr.  Withers,  all  the 
more  was  he  embarrassed  when  he  found  that  he  was 
to  ask  it  in  the  presence  of  Miss  Annie  Withers,  to 
whom  he  had  been  formally  presented,  and  whose  face 
he  remeinlHTol  perfectly.  Was  there,  perhaps,  the 
least  shade  of  discomfiture  as  he  sat  down?  Anyway, 


V 

THE  HEROINES  OF  SCOTLAND.  289 


George  Withers,  with  a  fine  instinct,  asfee^jfelsr iw&j^ 
ment  if  Oscar  wished  to  see  him  alone  ;    and  Annie 
started  as  if  to  retire. 

"  Not  at  all,"  said  Oscar  bravely.  "  Pray  do  not 
leave  us,  Miss  Withers ; "  for  the  instant  had  been 
enough  to  bring  to  him  one  of  Jasper's  favorite  mot 
toes, —  "Tell  what  you  have  to  say."  On  this  text 
Jasper  would  learnedly  descant.  "  If  you  started  your 
true  nominative,"  he  said,  "  and  compelled  it  tyranni 
cally  to  govern  its  verb,  you  could  say  anything  you 
wanted  to."  When  people  told  Jasper  that  they  knew 
what  the}*  meant,  but  could  not  express  themselves,  he 
was  generally  incredulous,  and  turned  upon  his  heel. 
"  Had  not  you  better  start  with  a  nominative  case?" 
he  would  say. 

So  Oscar,  with  all  his  real  embarrassment,  would 
not  let  Miss  Annie  Withers  retire. 

"  There  is  a  young  lady  in  town,  Dr.  Withers,  whom 
I  knew  when  she  was  a  school-mistress  at  the  West. 
She  is  a  good  teacher,  and  a  spirited,  brave  girl.  She 
has  drifted  to  New  York,  by  mistake,  I  think,  and  is 
all  alone  here.  She  is  staying  at  a  boarding-house 
in  Varick  Street,  which  seems  to  me  a  bad  place  for 
her ;  but  I  am  a  stranger  here,  and  I  hardly  know 
what  to  recommend  myself.  I  am  also  very  much  a 
stranger  to  her"  (and  the  young  fellow  blushed  here, 
but  pulled  on  bravely)  ;  "  but  I  knew  if  you  would  ad 
vise  her  what  to  do,  the  advice  would  be  right ;  and  I 
knew  she  would  very  gladly  take  advice  from  you." 

Dr.  Withers  was  all  this  time  taking  the  measure  of 
Mr.  Oscar  Esmark  mentally ;  and  all  this  time  the 
measure  was  more  favorable  and  more.  Oscar  made 
no  apologies,  he  knew  the  value  of  time.  He  made  no 
unnecessary  explanations.  He  got  his  subject  in  earl}' 
in  the  conversation.  He  conquered  his  own  bashful- 
ness.  He  explained  why  he  could  not  do  himself  that 
which  he  asked  another  to  do.  So,  by  the  end  of  Oscar's 
little  speech,  Dr.  Withers's  heart  had  warmed  to  him, 
while  his  judgment  had  pronounced  the  'young  man  one 
19 


290  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

of  the  most  sensible  people  he  had  seen  for  a  long 
time. 

"  Thank  you,  Mr.  Esmond,"  said  the  doctor,  whose 
pencil  and  note-book  were  in  his  hand.  "  Where  shall  I 
find  her?" 

"  Oh  !  "  said  Oscar.  "  it  is  too  far  for  you :  she  shall 
come  here,  or  I  will.  Or  if  you  are  willing  to  intro 
duce  her,  on  my  introduction,  in  any  quiet  place  where 
it  will  not  be  too  expensive  for  her,  why  a  note  from 
you  will  answer." 

"  I  had  better  see  her,  Mr.  Esmond :  she  will  feel 
more  at  ease,  and  I  shall  understand  better.  Is  she 
comfortably  lodged  to-night  ?  " 

Oscar  explained  that  Miss  Cottam  wished  to  make 
no  change  of  quarters  till  the  next  day.  Annie  With 
ers  proposed  that  she  should  call  on  Miss  Cottam  ;  but 
to  this  both  gentlemen  demurred.  "  Ask  Miss  Cottam 
to  call  here,  Mr.  Esmond  ;  perhaps  she  will  lunch  with 
us  at  one.  Annie,  has  not  Mrs.  Alden  room  for  Miss 
Cottam?  A  good  many  of  her  people  must  be  out  of 
town." 

Annie  thought  so,  felt  sure,  would  write  a  note,  and 
was  at  her  desk  at  the  moment.  Oscar  was  on  his  feet 
to  go. 

"  No,  Mr.  Esmond,  let  Christine  bring  you  a  cup  of 
tea  while  Annie  writes.  You  do  not  come  to  see  me 
so  often  that  you  should  hurry  away." 

Oscar  said  very  frankly  that  he  had  taken  too  much 
time  already. 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it,  my  dear  young  friend.  You  have 
done  the  right  thing.  What  is  the  Church  of  Christ  for, 
or  its  ministers?  Now  tell  me  about  Norway,  Mr. 
Esmond.  \Vere  }'ou  at  the  university?" 

Oscar  laughed,  lie  had  never  been  at  any  univer 
sity,  lie  was  a  carriage-builder,  or  hoped  to  be. 

"  Ah,  well !  I  hope  you  will  not  make  us  ride  in 
Norwegian  carriage's.  It  is  five  years  since  I  was  in 
NonvMy  ;  and  a  very  happy  summer  I  spent  there." 
And  then  lie  made  Oscar  feel  quite  at  ease,  and  delighted 


THE  UEEOIXE8  OF  SCOTLAND.  291 

him  entirely  by  telling  him  of  a  charming  interview  he 
had  with  Bishop  Tegncr. 

But  the  note  was  written.  It  was  before  the  days  of 
a  reliable  penny-post ;  and  Annie  Withers  intrusted  it 
to  Mr.  Esmark's  own  hand.  She  emphasized  the  last 
syllable  of  his  name  in  the  hope  thut  her  father  might 
condescend  once  to  call  the  young  man  rightly.  And 
he  did. 

"  Good-evening,  Mr.  Esmark.  To-morrow,  at  one, 
if  you  please." 

And  Oscar  retired. 

"  You  see,  Annie,  the  whole  enterprise  would  have 
failed  had  I  sent  him  away  till  to-morrow." 

Oscar  Esmark  had  thus,  in  six  and  a  quarter  minutes, 
won  for  himself,  and,  as  it  afterwards  proved,  for  Ruth 
Cottam,  the  firm  and  lasting  regard  of  one  of  the  most 
accomplished  men,  and  one  of  the  most  level}'  women, 
in  the  world.  He  did  this  simply  by  beginning  at  the 
beginning  of  his  story,  and  by  going  away  the  moment 
he  was  done.  Annie  Withers  always  remembered  him 
afterwards  as  the  young  man  who  saved  her  father's 
life.  Dr.  Withers  himself  remembered  him  as  a  frank, 
straightforward  fellow,  who  knew  what  he  was  about, 
and  was  true  to  a  friend.  Had  Oscar  staid  half  an 
hour  more,  merely  because  he  found  himself  with  two 
agreeable  people,!  cannot  say  what  that  jaded  man  and 
that  anxious  daughter  might  have  thought  him  or  called 
him. 

And  where  was  Mr.  Jasper  Rising  all  this  time? 
Why  did  not  Oscar  consult  with  his  natural  patron  and 
adviser  ? 


292  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 


CHAPTER    XXVII. 

YOU   ARE   TRYING   TO    SPARE    ME. 

TASPER  RISING  had  been  at  New  Altona,  watching 
with  intense  interest  the  fortunes  of  "  The  New 
Altona  Gazette"  in  that  regeneration  which  he  was 
supervising.  The  regeneration  of  a  man  or  a  woman  is 
an  experience  over  which  angels  wreep.  Lacon  sa}'s, 
indeed,  of  saihts  newly  converted,  that  the}'  are  like 
roads  newly  repaired.  It  is  to  be  hoped  that  there 
ma}*  be  an  ultimate  improvement ;  but,  at  the  moment 
of  repair,  the  traveller  is  apt  to  think  that  he  preferred 
the  old  road  to  the  new.  This  is  but  a  c<ynical  state 
ment  ;  but  it  marks  a  danger  observable  in  all  regen 
eration.  Now,  the  regeneration  of  a  newspaper  is  a 
hundred-fold  more  delicate  and  difficult  than  the  regen 
eration  of  a  man  ;  for  it  probably  involves  the  regener 
ation,  or  renewal  in  some  form  of  life,  of  one  or  two 
hundred  men,  nil  of  whom  have  to  do  something  they 
had  failed  to  do  before.  Jasper  Rising  had  to  flatter  one, 
to  coax  another,  to  bribe  another,  to  convince  another, 
of  these  two  hundred  people  more  or  less,  in  the  hope 
to  make  "  The  New  Altona  Gazette "  a  journal  as 
wakeful  as  he  found  it  sleepy.  Nor  was  his  work  all 
in  vain.  All  parties  in  New  Altona,  and  on  the  steam 
boat  and  railroad  mutes  which  connect  with  that  flour 
ishing  town,  found  out  that  "  The  New  Altona  Gazette  " 
was  terribly  in  earnest.  Each  day's  issue  gave  a  fillip 
to  Ihe  nerves  of  the  people  of  New  Altona,  as  if  their 
ulnar  nerves  li;id  licen  hit  suddenly. 

In  a  month  of  this  work,  that  is  to  say  in- a  month 
of  teaching  bricklaj'ers  how  to  lay  brick,  stove-men 
how  to  lay  flues,  engine-builders  how  to  set  up  their 


YOU  AEE  TRYING  TO  SPAEE  ME.  293 

steam-engines,  firemen  how  to  make  fires,  and  "  en 
gineers  "  how  to  make  steam ;  a  month  of  persuading 
pressmen  that  they  could  live,  even  if  the}'  worked  from 
two  to  four  in  the  morning,  while  the}r  had  been  wont 
to  work  from  seven  to  nine  in  the  evening  ;  a  month  of 
explaining  to  reporters  that  they  were  not  to  have  opin 
ions,  but  eyes  and  ears  and  pens ;  and  of  hinting  to 
visitors  that  the  reason  there  was  but  one  chair  in  the 
editor's  room  was  that  nobody  but  the  editor  was  to 
sit  down  there ;  a  month  of  cutting  off  worthless  ex 
changes,  of  cutting  down  a  gigantic  free-list,  of  offend 
ing  some  old  supporters  of  "  The  Gazette,"  and  con 
ciliating  a  great  many  enemies  of  that  journal,  —  in 
this  month's  time,  Jasper  had  found  time  and  opportu- 
nit}T  to  write  seven  long  letters  to  Bertha  Schwarz. 
And  they  were  skilfully  worded,  these  letters :  they 
made  it  necessary  that  Miss  Schwarz  should  write  at 
least  six  letters  to  him.  Jasper's  were  long  letters,  — 
as  long  as  could  be  handsomely  written  on  the  one 
quarto  sheet  allowable  under  the  postage  of  that  da}-. 
Bertha's  were  not  so  long ;  but  they  were  nice  letters, 
—  letters  which  made  the  young  man  very  happy  to 
receive,  and  which,  in  the  simplicity  and  sometimes 
quaint  prettiness  of  their  expression,  were  very  well 
worth  being  read  over  and  over,  and  kept  in  the  pretty 
letter-case  which  Bertha  herself  embroidered  for  him 
when  they  were  all  in  the  Cholera  Hospital  together. 
Life  was  made  just  endurable  to  Jasper  Rising  by  these 
letters,  almost  unendurable  though  the  time  was  when 
he  was  waiting  for  one  of  them,  and  wondering  if  it 
would  come.  At  the  last,  after  four  weeks  of  such  en 
durable  and  unendurable  life,  he  persuaded  himself  that 
the  new  steam-engine  would  run  for  forty-eight  hours, 
even  if  he  did  not  poke  the  fire ;  that  the  carriers  he 
had  started  on  new  routes  would  not  carry  to  Belleville 
the  papers  that  were  meant  for  Flirt-town ;  that  Mr. 
Polk  would  not  veto  the  internal  improvement  bill  be 
fore  the  week  was  over  :  and  so  he  sent  for  Mr.  Schalfer 
the  foreman,  as  the  morning  edition  went  to  press,  and 
told  him  he  had  important  business  in  Boston,  and 


294  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

should  not  be  back  till  Saturday.  Then  he  took  his 
scrip  or  carpet-bag  to  the  station,  and  waited  for  the 
passage  of  the  night-train.  The  train  was  on  time  ;  and 
it  flew  along,  compassing  fifty  miles  with  every  hundred 
minutes  as  the  dawn  crept  up  the  sky :  but  to  Jasper 
it  seemed  to  crawl.  The  mood  came  over  him  which 
made  him  feel  as  if  he  should  never  arrive  aivywhere. 
Sleeping  and  waking,  trying  to  read,  or  trying  to  talk, 
it  was  all  the  same.  For  Jasper  was,  and  knew  he 
was,  on  the  edge  of  the  catastrophe,  or  crisis,  of  his 
life.  He  was  determined,  as  he  had  been  once  before, 
in  a  great  resolution.  Once  before  he  had  been  foiled 
before  the  moment  of  crisis  came  ;  and  now  he  might  be 
so  foiled  again.  Such  is  the  reason,  I  suppose,  why 
the  rapid  rush  before  one  comes  to  Niagara  seems  some 
times  so  deadly  slow. 

But  time  was  with  Jasper  ;  and  at  five  that  afternoon 
he  was  in  Boston.  An  hour  more,  and  he  left  the 
American  House,  and  found  his  way  to  the  little  four- 
roomed  half-house  w^hich  he  knew  so  well. 

Yes,  even  to  Jasper,  there  could  be  no  doubt  Bertha 
was  glad  to  see  him.  There  could  be  no  doubt  that 
Mr.  Schwarz  remembered  him,  almost  as  soon  as  he 
saw  him.  Even  shy  Mrs.  Schwarz  asked  him  to  join 
them  at  tea ;  and  Jasper  was  not  discouraged  by  his 
reception. 

This  was  the  same  sultry  day  in  June  in  which  Ruth 
had  been  trudging  round  in  New  York  with  "Flora 
Mac  Ivor"  and  "Rose  Bradwardine  "  and  "Mary 
Queen  of  Scots,"  till  she  took  in  that  hatred  of  their 
names  which  she  has  never  since  got  rid  of.  This  was 
the  evening  when  the  old  cat  saw  the  forty-two  dollars 
counted  over,  and  when  Annie  Withers  gave  her  father 
the  cup  of  tea.  "  On  such  a  night  as  that"  it  was  per 
fectly  true,  as  Jasper  said  to  Bertha,  that  it  would  be 
cooler  walking  on  the  Common  than  it  was  in  the  little 
parlor  of  Mrs.  Sehwar/'s  house,  where  his  neighbor  Carl 
Blum  had  come  in  to  play  the  flute  in  accompaniment 
to  Sehwar/'s  violin.  "On  such  a  night  as  that,"  the 
new  moon,  but  three  days  old,  was  reflected  in  the  bay 


YOU  ARE  TRYING  TO  SPARE  ME.  295 

below  Fox  Hill :  that  bay  had  not  yet  been  covered 
with  buildings.  "  On  such  a  night  as  that,"  as  the 
moonlight  trickled  through  the  branches  upon  the  paths, 
Jasper  and  Bertha  walked  slowly  down  the  "  upper 
mall,"  and  Jasper  said  to  her,  — 

u  1  want  to  sa}T  what  I  wanted  to  say  a  year  ago  to 
you,  and  ought  to  have  said  then.  I  want  to  say,  that 
unless  I  can  somehow  persuade  you  to  share  my  lii'e, 
and  let  me  share  yours,  life  will  be  terribly  hard  to  me 
to  bear :  indeed,  it  will  not  be  worth  living.  Indeed, 
Miss  Bertha,  I  can  say  that  now  as  I  could  not  say  it 
then ;  for  I  have  tried  it  during  this  wretched  winter, 
and  I  know  "  — 

Then  he  paused  a  minute  ;  and  Bertha  said  nothing. 

u  I  wanted  to  say  this,"  he  went  on,  "  that  day 
when  we  were  by  the  river,  with  Oscar.  But  every 
thing  was  so  lovely  there,  that  I  could  not  bear  to  have 
you  say  4  No '  to  me.  Still,  the  next  morning,  I  did 
not  dare  let  the  day  go  by  without  saying  this ;  and 
then  that  dismal  letter  came ;  and  I  —  O  Bertha !  I 
was  such  a  fool  that  I  thought  I  must  not  tell  you  any 
thing  because  you  were  an  heiress. 

"Was  not  I  glad,  when  I  heard  that  the  cousins  in 
Australia  had  appeared?" 

And  Bertha  still  said  nothing.  They  walked  a  hun 
dred  paces,  and  she  said  nothing.  And  Jasper  fairly 
trembled  in  his  terror.  But  he  forced  himself  to  say,  — 

"  You  are  trying  to  spare  me  great  pain." 

"  No,  no,"  she  faltered  ;  "  but,  Jasper,  why  did  not 
you  speak  then  ?  " 


296  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 


CHAPTER    XXVIII. 

THE   LAST   SUMMER. 

A  ND  so  that  vista  between  the  elm-trees,  with  the 
-f^-  glimpse  of  the  water  under  the  moonlight,  and 
the  long  row  of  lamps  be}Tond,  has  been  to  Bertha  and 
to  Jasper  for  twenty  years,  and  more,  the  most  exquis 
ite  prospect  on  earth  —  or  shall  I  say  in  heaven?  since 
there,  for  them,  there  came  into  the  kingdom  of  their 
heaven  a  reality  so  exquisite  and  so  sure.  For  my 
part,  I  never  walk  down  that  beautiful  avenue  without 
other  memories,  of  the  days  when  I  panted  between  the 
thills  of  a  bo}T's  "  truck,"  dragging  behind  me  one  or 
another  of  the  two  boys  who  knew  the  secrets  of  that 
avenue.  Or  they  drew  me.  Or,  spurning  the  "truck," 
we  drove  our  high  hoops  —  mine  was  named  Lightfoot 
—  at  the  speed  of  5.30  down  the  hill.  Or  we  la}r  pant 
ing  on  the  bit  of  turf  which  some  sentimental  workman 
had  cut  in  the  shape  of  a  heart,  and  which  no  one 
living  now  remembers,  except  me  ;  for  neither  of  those 
two  companions  will  ever  tell  the  secrets  of  the  Upper 
Mall  or  of  the  Charles-street  Mall  to  any  one  on  this 
earth  now.  But  Jasper  and  Bertha  were  not  Boston 
born  or  bred.  They  drove  their  childish  hoops  by  the 
river-side  in  Lauenburg,  or  by  that  at  Duqucsne :  it 
was  only  here  that  they  began  to  drive  them  together. 
And  so,  as  I  say,  the  elms,  the  Gothic  arch  between 
them,  the  memory  of  the  water  which  is  now  gone,  and 
the  silver  of  the  constant  moon,  which  shone  last  night 
on  other  lovers  there,  as  it  shone  then  on  them,  —  these 
make  for  these  two  the  centre  of  their  kingdom  of 
heaven. 

You  see,  there  was  everything  to  tell.     Jasper  had 


THE  LAST  SUMMER.  297 

to  answer  Bertha's  question,  and  tell  why  he  did  not 
speak  then.  Bertha  had  to  tell,  not  simply  of  carnal 
things  of  the  moment  when  it  became  sure  that  their 
sudden  riches  had  taken  wings  and  were  gone,  but  of 
things  much  more  important  and  much  more  lasting. 
She  had  to  answer  Jasper's  ^ross-questionings,  and  tell 
whether  she  were  glad  or  &orry  that  he  wrote  to  her 
when  she  was  in  German}^,  whether  she  were  glad  or 
sony  when  she  saw  him  in  the  boat  in  the  harbor  of 
New  York,  —  na}~,  whether  she  expected  to  see  him, 
and  when  and  where.  Then  he  had  to  explain  to  her 
yet  again,  how,  under  that  diT  inc  decree  which  had 
steadily  brought  them  together  in  ways  so  strange, 
from  the  moment  when  he  carried  her  poor  lame 
brother  home,  till  now,  it  was  she,  and  only  she,  who 
now  gave  to  him  for  life,  that  home  and  that  work 
which  were  just  what  he  was  made  for,  and  just  what 
he  had  not  dared  to  ask  for.  And  both  of  them  had  to 
laugh  and  wonder  because  it  was  so  strange  that  she, 
almost  a  Hamburg  girl,  should  be  tossed  about  the 
world  so  long,  to  settle  down  in  a  new  Altona.  For 
the  real  Altona  in  German}"  is  almost  a  part  of  the 
real  Hamburg,  Lily ;  and  this  seemed  a  queer  bit  of 
predestination.  So  long  had  Bertha  been  tossed  about 
the  world  !  For,  if  }'ou  have  all  computed  rightly,  }TOU 
have  seen  that  Bertha  was  by  this  time  full}'  nineteen 
3Tears  old,  and  well-nigh  approaching  twenty :  by  con 
sequence  she  thought  herself  much  older  than  she  does 
now,  when  a  quarter-century  more  has  gone  by. 

So  it  was  —  shall  I  confess  it  ?  —  that  it  was  after 
eleven,  it  was  nearl}r  twelve,  of  that  summer  night, 
when  Jasper  left  Bertha  at  her  father's  house,  and  bade 
dear  misty  Mr.  Schwarz  good-by  at  the  door.  For 
tunately,  Mr.  Schwarz  neither  knew  nor  cared  whether 
it  were  ten  at  night,  or  four  in  the  morning.  So  long 
as  the  gaslight  burned,  so  long  could  he  give  life  to  the 
buried  melodies  in  the  heaps  of  time-stained  music  he 
had  brought  from  home  with  him,  and  so  long  was  he 
unconscious  of  time,  and  perfectly  happy.  Bertha 


298  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

kissed  him,  told  him  it  was  time  for  them  both  to  be  in 
bed,  and  that  was  all. 

But  when  Jasper  called  the  next  morning,  as  soon  as 
it  was  decent  to  pretend  that  the  family  could  have 
finished  their  breakfast,  Bertha  had  told  her  mother 
and  her  father  all  that  had  happened.  Dear  Mrs. 
Schwarz,  timid  as  always,  was  enough  inspired  by  her 
love  for  Bertha,  and  her  certainty  that  Bertha  was 
alwa}Ts  right,  to  break  quite  over  bars  and  obstacles, 
and  to  talk  with  Jasper  more  volubly  and  heartily  than 
she  had  ever  done  before.  It  was  all  in  praise  of  her 
darling  child  ;  and  her  darling  child  had  to  go  out  of 
the  room  while  the  good  mother  ran  on,  and  Jasper  lis 
tened,  well  pleased.  For  the  good-man  of  the  house  — 
in  his  dreamy  way  he  told  Jasper  he  might  take  his 
daughter,  and  make  her  happy.  Jasper  had  not  the 
slightest  idea  what  would  have  happened  in  such  an 
interview,  had  the  father  been  a  prosperous  merchant 
in  dry-goods,  educated  on  slab  benches  in  Vermont, 
and  the  mother  a  prosperous  belle  still  remembering 
the  triumphs  of  Ballston  Spa.  But  none  the  less  was 
he  aware  that  there  was  a  queer  Old- World  tang  about 
the  welcome  that  was  given  to  him  in  the  home  where 
he  was  now  to  be  a  son ;  and  none  the  less  racy  was  it 
for  its  oddity. 

Somehow  it  happened  —  he  did  not  know  how  — 
that  they  were  alone,  he  and  Bertha,  in  the  tiny  dining- 
room.  And  somehow  it  happened  —  she  did  not  know 
how  —  that  she  was  sitting  on  his  knee,  and  his  arm 
was  round  her  waist  to  keep  her  from  falling.  And  so 
it  happened,  all  circumstances  being  thus  auspicious 
for  tin-  most  careful  and  solid  business  conversations, 
that  Jasper  dashed  right  into  the  details  of  their  mar 
ried  life.  Bertha  told  him  he  thought  it  was  just  as  if 
the  minister  were  in  the  parlor,  and  her  trunk  were 
packed,  and  a  carriage  to  be  at  the  door  in  half  an 
hour.  And  Jasper  laughed,  and  told  her,  that,  in  fact 
and  practice,  it  was  just  the  same.  Anyway,  he  must 
tell  how  she  had  allied  herself  to  a  young  man  who  was 
only  not  a  beggar  ;  but  he  wanted  her  to  understand, 


THE  LAST  SUMMER.  299 

so  that  her  father  and  mother  might  understand,  all 
about  "The  New  Altona  Gazette"  and  his  salary,  and 
his  other  prospects  ;  and  what  a  very  nice  tenement 
there  was,  quite  separate  from  the  rest  of  the  house,  in 
I  Street,  near  the  corner  of  17th,  which  they  could 
rent  for  only  a  hundred  and  twenty-five  dollars,  if  he 
applied  for  it  at  once  :  and  would  she  be  willing  to  let 
him  apply  for  it  at  once,  and  let  him  come  on,  —  say 
early  in  September,  though  August  would  be  better, 
and  be  married  then,  and  go  out  to  New  Altona  so 
soon,  and  begin?  And  Bertha  laughed  at  this  long 
sentence  as  she  had  not  laughed  since  the  old  Detroit 
days,  and  told  him  this  was  the  wildest  nonsense  in  the 
world,  and  that  no  such  thing  must  be  thought  of. 
And  then  she  explained  to  him,  very  seriously  indeed, 
that  because  he  had  been  pricing  houses,  and  making 
estimates,  and  getting  himself  ready  generally,  she  had 
not  been  doing  any  such  thing,  and  that  he  must  un 
derstand  that  she  was  all  in  a  dream  }^et,  and  all  taken 
by  surprise.  And  so,  somehow,  they  got  talking  about 
the  boat  on  the  river  at  Detroit,  and  Oscar,  and  how 
he  la}T  asleep  there  on  the  shore,  and  what  Jasper  said 
to  Bertha  then,  and  Bertha  said  to  Jasper  —  Oh,  dear 
me  !  I  do  not  know  what  they  did  not  talk  about,  till 
there  was  a  rattle  at  the  door,  —  prolonged  rather  sus 
piciously, —  and  Bertha  had  just  time  to  arrange  her 
self  decorously  in  a  rocking-chair,  and  Wil.  came 
bounding  in.  School  wras  over,  he  said,  and  his 
mother  wanted  to  know  what  time  they  had  better  have 
dinner. 

School  over  !     Where  could  the  morning  have  gone  ? 

Worse  than  losing  the  whole  morning,  as  you  see 
they  had,  was  the  wretched  fact  that  Jasper  must  leave 
for  home,  as  he  called  it  now,  early  the  next  morning. 
Forty-eight  hours,  at  the  outside,  was  the  longest 
period  for  which  Mr.  Polk  could  be  trusted  to  abstain 
from  a  veto.  And  if  he  should  veto  the  bill,  and  New 
Altona  not  know  wrhat  to  think  of  it,  of  course  it  would 
be  all  up  with  the  hopes  of  the  tenement-house  on  the 
corner  of  I  Street  and  17th  Street.  Under  these  cir- 


300  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

cumstances,  the  day  not  being  at  all  warm,  as  they 
both  voted,  the  wisest  thing  for  thoughtful  .young  people 
like  them  to  do  —  seeing  they  had  all  the  plans  for  fu 
ture  life  to  make  in  so  few  hours  —  seemed  to  be  to 
walk  up  to  the  Common  again,  and  see  if  there  were 
not  a  good  breeze  there,  and  an  unoccupied  seat  some 
where  on  the  Upper  Mall.  And  this  the}'  did.  In 
their  search  they  were  successful,  and,  thanks  to  Park- 
street  Church  clock,  were  not  much  behind  time  when 
they  came  back  to  supper. 

No  dates  were  fixed  in  the  remaining  conferences  of 
the  day,  if  I  except  an  understanding,  not  very  for 
mally  made,  that,  of  course,  they  would  write  to  each 
other  daily.  But  Jasper  left  with  a  determination, 
perfectly  defined,  to  hire  the  I  Street  tenement ;  and 
hire  it  he  did,  and  got  the  tenants  out  as  soon  as  he 
could.  Then  he  had  the  whole  interior  painted,  —  the 
doors  in  two  colors,  from  a  hint  Oscar  gave  him.  In 
fact,  Oscar  went  up  to  New  Altona,  superintended  the 
whole  work,  and  did  three-quarters  of  it  with  his  own 
hands.  Then  Jasper  went  down  to  New  York ;  had 
endless  conferences  with  Aunt  Mar}',  who  proved  an 
ally  worthy  of  such  crown  of  friendship  as  Orestes 
and  Pylades  won.  And  together  the}'  bought  carpets, 
chairs,  tables,  and  other  belongings.  Ask  Mrs.  Stowe 
and  Mrs.  Whitney  to  tell  you  how  pretty  they  were, 
and  how  cheap  they  were  at  the  same  time.  Loyal 
Aunt  Mary  !  In  the  dog-days  of  August,  she  slaved 
round  with  Jasper  from  point  to  point,  and  they  fig 
ured  and  cheapened  and  decided  what  Bertha  would 
like  best,  and  bought  it.  And  Jasper  ilcw  back  and 
forth  to  New  Altona  in  second-class  cars,  and  gave  to 
New  Altona  its  opinions  on  broad  gauge  and  narrow 
gauge,  on  vaccination  and  hydrophobia  and  ventilation, 
jut  as  if  the  most  important  subject  in  the  world  really 
were  not,  whether,  in  the  long  run,  American  Brussels 
at  81.30  were  not  cheaper,  though  it  be  so  narrow,  than 
three-ply  at  eighty-seven  cents.  By  such  loving  help 
was  the  upper  tenement  at  the  corner  of  I  Street  and 
17th  Street  fitted  and  furnished  by  the  time  the  first  of 


THE  LAST  SUMMER.  301 

September  came.  In  a  general  way,  Bertha  had  been 
consulted  by  letters  about  these  things ;  but  nobody 
told  her  how  soon  her  advice  was  acted  on  when  it 
came. 

But,  on  the  first  of  September,  Jasper  persuaded  Dan 
L'Estrange,  who  was  only  too  willing,  to  take  the  helm 
of  "The  New  Altona  Gazette"  for  a  whole  week. 
And  Dan  L'Estrange  was  sworn  not  to  put  her  head  to 
the  wind  in  that  time,  nor  in  any  way  to  be  bumptious. 
He  was  to  discuss  domestic  service,  and  the  inde 
pendence  of  the  judiciary,  and  religious  toleration,  and 
the  other  safe  subjects,  and  not  to  launch  out  into  those 
forbidden  themes,  which,  between  ourselves,  no  man 
living  understood  as  Jasper  Rising  —  thought  he  did. 
Dan  L'Estrange  swore,  and  to  his  oath  he  held.  And 
once  more  on  the  slow  wings  of  the  express-train  Jas 
per  sped  to  Boston.  "Personal  presence  moves  the 
world,"  as  he  had  said  two  or  three  hundred  times  to 
Oscar,  and  perhaps  seven  times  to  the  people  of  New 
Altona.  And  he  found  Bertha  ten  times  as  lovely,  and 
as  gentle,  and  as  true,  and  as  wise,  and  as  simple,  and  as 
girlish,  and  as  womanly,  —  ten  times  all  he  had  remem 
bered  her,  and  all  he  had  dreamed  of  her ;  he  found 
her  ten  times  dearer  to  him,  and  that  he  was  ten  times 
dearer  to  her,  than  ever  before. 

Lovely  days  at  Nahant,  with  little  picnics  on  the 
rocks,  the 'children  perfectly  happy.  Lovely  days  at 
Cambridge,  where  he  showed  her  his  old  favorites,  from 
folios  down  to  Elzevirs,  in  the  college  librar}*,  and  where 
the}r  had  their  picnic  under  trees  now  long  since  cut 
down  to  make  room  for  suburban  cottages.  One  lovely 
da}T  on  the  shore  at  Nantasket.  One  lovely  day  by 
Charles  River.  One  lovely  excursion  as  far  as  the 
waterfall  in  Maiden.  Children  of  the  people,  as  they 
were  all  of  them,  they  knew,  as  only  the  people  know, 
how  to  live  and  to  enjoy.  And  the  week  was  one  week 
more  of  heaven,  if,  as  I  suppose,  heaven  is  all  pure  en 
joyment,  and  faith  unwavering,  hope  unflinching,  and 
huppy  love. 

In  such  da}Ts,  and  in  the  cool  evenings  after,  which 


302  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

sealed  them,  Jasper  told  Bertha  that  he  had  been  sure 
it  would  be  wiser  for  him  to  be  read}'  whenever  she  was 
ready :  so  he  had  taken  the  house,  and  made  ready  the 
rooms.  Not  that  he  would  press  her,  dear  girl,  not  for 
a  moment.  He  had  waited,  and  he  could  wait,  —  seven 
years,  if  she  said  so,  or  fourteen.  He  would  never  say 
another  word,  but  that  the  home  was  waiting,  and  the 
door  was  open,  whenever  she  chose  to  come. 

And  my  dear  Bertha  !  She  had  found  that  the  sum 
mer  was  all  broken.  To  say  unsatisfactorj7  would  be 
cruel,  seeing  she  was  at  home,  and  not  in  Germany ; 
seeing  she  was  happ}r,  and  not  unhappy  ;  seeing  her 
life  was  certain  before  her,  and  not  a  mist-wreath  or  a 
dream.  But  she  could  settle  to  nothing,  she  could  de 
termine  on  nothing,  she  could  be  nothing,  while, — 
while  half  of  her  being  was  there,  and  only  the  other 
half  was  here.  Bertha  permitted  herself  to  be  per 
suaded,  and  wrote  to  dear  Aunt  Mary  and  Uncle  Kauf 
man  n  that  they  might  come  to  the  wedding  in  the 
middle  of  October.  Nobody  else  would  be  asked.  It 
would  be  the  simplest  wedding  that  was  ever  heard  of. 
But  they  must  come. 

"  Busiest  season  of  the  j^ear,"  said  Kaufmann  Baum, 
when  dear  Aunt  Mary  read  him  the  letter.  "But  I 
would  not  miss  the  wedding  for  a  thousand  dollars  !  I 
liked  that  young  fellow  the  first  day  I  ever  saw  him. 
Mary,  I  tell  you  what  we  will  give  them.  You  shall 
go  to  Chickering's,  and  pick  them  out  a  nice  piano. 
Ah,  me !  do  you  remember  her  playing  the  Apollo 
here?'1 

That  same  evening,  Bertha  and  Jasper  drew  up  to 
the  taMe  with  great  forethought,  much  paper,  two  pen 
cils,  mid  Waterman's  catalogue  of  household  goods,  as 
they  did  so  often  now.  And  this  night  they  made  out 
1he  <>r<lcr  for  crockery,  —  what  was  absolutely  neces 
sary  to  be^in  upon.  A  pit}r  that  Miss  Folder,  who  was 
to  lie  made  Mrs.  Milliard,  whose  carriage  Oscar  was  at 
work  upon  on  the  hallowed  and  ever-to-be  blessed  sum 
mer  evening  in  June,  —  a  pity  that  she  should  not  have 
.seen  this  list  !  It  might  have  helped  her  in  filling  her 


THE  LAST  SUMMER.  303 

china  closet.  Here  it  is,  Fanchon :  here  it  is,  Annie. 
Copy  it,  it  may  be  of  use  to  you  some  day. 

It  had  been  agreed  between  them  that  the  table- 
service  should  be  as  simple  as  possible,  and  as  cheap  as 
possible,  so  that  an}r  money  that  could  be  saved  should 
be  spent,  not  in  the  elegancies  of  china,  but  in  fine  art 
more  satisfactory.  Jasper  had  sent,  accordingly,  to 
\Vedgewood  and  Benvenuto  for  a  price-list  of  the  cheap 
est  dinner-set  which  they  could  furnish.  The  list  be 
gan,  "  One  soup-tureen,  round,  eight  inches,  two  dollars 
and  a  half."  Jasper  immediately  checked  this  ;  but 
Bertha  sta}Tcd  his  hand.  "  Not  at  all,"  said  she  ;  "  all 
the  soup  we  can  eat,  with  Oscar's  help,  can  be  put  in  a 
large  covered  vegetable-dish,  or  at  least  in  two." 

Jasper  then  checked,  "  sauce-tureen,  one  dollar  and 
a  quarter."  "  Not  at  all,"  said  Bertha.  "  You  must 
be  satisfied  to  have  your  sauce  in  a  bowl." 

Jasper  then  checked  two  u  boats,"  thirty-seven  cents 
each  ;  but  Bertha  scratched  out  his  check,  and  so  with 
"  pickle  "  and  "  salad  dish." 

"  You  are  the  most  extravagant  boy,"  said  she,  "  I 
ever  "  — 

"  Agreed  to  love,  honor,  and  obey." 

But  Bertha  permitted  him  to  have  two  "  plain  pud 
ding-dishes  "  at  fift}r  cents  each,  two  u  vegetable-dishes" 
at  fifty  cents  each,  two  "  oval,  covered,"  at  one  dollar, 
—  "  they  will  do  for  your  soup,"  said  she,  —  and  one 
"round,  covered." 

Then  she  marked  a  third-size  "  dish  "  at  eighty-eight 
cents,  and  a  fifth-size  at  thirty-seven.  She  let  him 
have  six  dinner-plates,  six  breakfast-plates,  and  three 
soup-plates  ;  and  all  these  cost  them  a  dollar  and  three- 
quarters.  Then  she  gave  him  three  cups  and  three 
saucers  "  with  handles."  There  was  a  teapot  and  cof 
fee-pot  for  sixty  cents  each,  a  sugar-bowl,  cream-pot, 
and  two  other  bowls,  which  came  to  a  dollar  and  fifteen 
cents.  The  great  extravagance  of  all  was  six  plated 
teaspoons,  "  good,"  as  they  were  marked  by  Wedge- 
wood  &  Co.,  six  table-spoons,  also  "  good,"  six  knives, 
and  six  forks.  These  extravagances  alone  cost  eight 


304  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

dollars  and  one  cent.  And  the  various  glass-ware  cost 
four  dollars.  The  mathematical  reader  will  perceive, 
therefore,  that  the  table  outfit  of  these  young  people 
cost  twenty-one  dollars  and  eightj'-six  cents.  At  the 
very  same  moment,  the  new  dining-set  which  Mr.  II il- 
liard  had  sent  to  Miss  Clarissa  Folger,  in  preparation 
for  their  marriage,  arrived  at  No.  571,  14th  Street. 
The  crate  was  opened  down  stairs  ;  and  the  butler  car 
ried  up  a  few  of  the  dishes  for  Miss  Folger's  inspection. 
"  How  pretty  it  is  ! "  said  she.  "  Mamma,  see  how 
pretty  the  dinner-set  will  be.  Reall}-,  George's  taste 
is  exquisite.  That  will  do,  Michael:  you  can  take 
them  down." 

This  was  all  the  fun  Miss  Folger  got  out  of  her  Dres 
den  dinner-set,  for  which  Mr.  Hilliard  had  paid  eleven 
hundred  and  fifty  dollars  that  morning. 

"  The  very  first  winter,"  said  Bertha,  "  I  will  paint 
them,  piece  by  piece.  There  must  be  a  dentist  in  New 
Altona,  and  he  shall  bake  my  painting  with  his  teeth." 

"  With  his  teeth  !  "  said  Jasper,  aghast. 

"  Child  of  mortality,  he  shall  bake  them  in  the  little 
kiln  in  which  he  bakes  molars  and  bicuspids.  One  has 
to  be  so  scientific  when  one  talks  with  these  herren 
editors." 

"  You  shall  paint  myrtles  and  roses  on  them." 

"  I  shall  paint  no  such  thing.  I  shall  paint  £he  Ris 
ing  crest  and  coat-of-arms,  as  '  The  New  Altona  Her 
ald's  '  office  shall  instruct  me." 


MES.  MEEKIAM'S.  305 


CHAPTER    XXIX. 

MRS.  MERRIAM'S. 

A  ND  where  was  Oscar  all  this  summer? 
-"-  "  Have  I  not  told  }TOU,  dear  children,  that  he 
went  to  New  Altona,  and  painted  the  rooms  there, 
doing  more  than  half  the  work  with  his  own  hands  ? 
That  was  the  way  in  which  he  spent  the  six-da}'s'  hol 
iday  which  was  granted  to  every  son  of  Adam  who 
earned  his  daity  bread  at  Lowndes  &  Karrigan's. 

u  Do  3'ou  want  to  know  more?  I  will  tell  you,  then, 
that,  from  the  paint-shop,  Oscar  w^ent  into  the  leather- 
room  ;  that  he  made  himself  a  great  favorite  there  with 
Mr.  Cupplethwaite  the  foreman.  He  always  made  him 
self  a  favorite  with  everybody.  He  is  a  favorite  of 
mine  :  that  is  the  reason  I  call  him  dear  Oscar  so  often. 
There,  now,  I  have  told  you  how  Oscar  Esmark  spent 
eleven-fifteenths  of  his  conscious  hours  through  all  this 
summer,  —  excepting  Sundays.  Sundays  I  suppose  he 
went  to  church  and  heard  Dr.  Farley  preach,  or  the 
ministers  who  '  exchanged '  with  him."  . 

"Dear  Mr.  Hale,  how  can  you  be  so  provoking? 
You  know  perfectly  well  that  we  want  to  know  about 
Oscar  and  Ruth.  We  do  not  care  anything  about  the 
paint-shop  or  the  leather-shop,  or  Mr.  Coppergraves." 

His  name  is  not  Coppergraves,  dear  Fanchon,  and 
never  was.  His  name  was  Cupplethwaite,  as  }TOU  would 
know  if  3'ou  listened  more  carefully.  So  you  really 
want  to  know  about  Oscar  and  Ruth  ?  That  is  curious. 
You  want  to  know  if  Ruth  Cottam  came  to  love  Oscar 
Esmark  half  as  well  as  he  came  to  love  her.  And  if, 
when  she  met  him  in  the  church,  or  when  he  came  to 
see  her  at  Mrs.  Alden's,  her  heart  stopped  beating,  and 
20 


306  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

her  brain  stopped  thinking,  as  his  did.  if  by  great  good 
luck  he  saw  her.  Yes  ?  Well,  this  is  more  important 
than  the  paint  on  Mr.  Hilliard's  carriage,  or  than  the 
questions  about  the  top  to  Mr.  Stewart's  droschky.  It 
is  as  much  more  important  as  heaven  is  than  earth. 
For  this  is  an  infinite  question  that  you  ask,  and  it  be 
longs  to  the  eternities. 

Let  us  begin  at  the  beginning. 

The  day  after  Ruth  and  Oscar  walked  up  to  Mrs. 
Sproul's  together,  and  that  old  cat  saw  him  count  out 
fortj-two  dollars  to  the  tired  girl,  Ruth  met  him  at  the 
little  bookstore  as  they  had  appointed.  And  then  he 
told  her,  with  no  little  hesitation  indeed,  what  he  had 
to  tell  her,  —  that  he  had  been  asked  to  bring  her  to 
lunch  at  Dr.  Withers's,  and  had  said  he  would  ask  her  to 
come.  Ruth  was  frightened,  but  not  so  much  taken 
aback  as  she  would  have  been,  had  not  her  life  been  so 
very  simple.  Indeed,  had  it  not  been  for  "  The  Ladies' 
Monitor,"  and  some  other  trash  of  that  sort  of  which 
she  had,  alas  !  read  too  much,  I  am  not  sure  that  she 
would  have  been  frightened  at  all.  If  dear  old  Parson 
Merwin  at  Manitowoc  had  known  that  there  was  a  Nor 
wegian  girl  who  had  just  come  to  town,  who  wanted  a 
home,  he  would  have  sent  to  her  to  come  round  to  the 
parsonage  in  a  minute ;  and  she  would  have  gone  as 
soon  as  she  was  sent  for.  And  Ruth  would  have  re 
garded  this  invitation  to  lunch  as  just  as  simple  as  Par 
son  Merwin's  message,  had  she  not  read  some  stories 
about  New- York  life,  and  its  etiquette,  and  its  gran 
deurs,  in  the  journals  I  have  alluded  to.  The  truth  was, 
that  the  writers  of  these  stories  knew  less  of  what  the}r 
were  writing  of  than  Ruth  Cottain  did  ;  but  nobody  had 
told  her  this,  and  it  was  no  fault  of  hers  that  she  did 
not  know. 

So  Ruth  did  look  at  her  walking-dress,  and  said 
frankly  to  Oscar,  "I  am  hardly  dressed  to  go  visiting." 
]>ut  she  added,  with  a  thorough  good  humor,  "if  they 
wanted  my  clothes,  they  should  have  sent  for  them;" 
and  asked  Oscar  anxiously  if  he  should  only  go  with  her, 


MES.  MEKBIA3TS.  307 

or  if  he  could  stay  through  the  entertainment,  which,  to 
both  of  them,  loomed  up  as  something  rather  awful. 

Could  he  stay?     Had  he  not  lain  awake  an  hour, 
blessing  the  providence  which  gave  him  this  certainty 
of  sitting  with  her  at  the  same  table  ?     He  had  told 
Mr.  Lowndes  that  he  should  like  to  have  "leave"  for 
the  afternoon.     They  would  have  granted  Oscar  an}-- 
thing  in  that  house,  and  "  leave  "  was   something  that 
Oscar  had  never  asked  before.      Time  was  none  too    . 
long ;  and  he  and  Bertha  went  to  the  appointment  at  1 
Dr.  Withers's. 

And  a  pretty  thing  it  was  to  see  Annie  Withers  and 
Euth  Cottam  "together,  —  the  simplicity  of  admirable 
training,  of  great  familiarity  with  societ}r,  and  constant 
intercourse  with  men  and  women,  coming  side  by  side 
with  the  simplicity  of  the  prairie,  the  log-cabin,  and  the 
lonely  island.  Annie  Withers  could  see  at  a  glance 
how  pretty  Ruth  was,  and  Ruth  saw  at  a  glance  how 
gentle  and  tender  Annie  Withers  was.  Annie  Withers 
was  perhaps  six  years  older  than  Ruth  in  years  ;  she 
was  a  thousand  years  older  in  experience.  She  had  ten 
thousand  wa}'s  therefore  to  make  her  feel  at  ease  and  at 
home.  She  met  her  far  more  than  half-way  in  entering 
into  acquaintanceship.  She  drew  her  out,  even  to  tell 
her  experiences  of  travel  and  of  lonely  city  life  ;  and  in 
half  an  hour  Annie  told  Ruth  that  she  had  thus  been 
learning  things  about  New  York  and  its  ways,  which 
twenty  }*ears  had  never  unfolded  to  her  before.  With 
out  the  least  insincerity  or  flattery,  she  made  this 
stranger  see  that  there  were  points  in  which  experience 
had  given  to  her,  in  all  her  strangeness,  the  advantage  ; 
and  her  sympatlvy  was  so  tender,  that  Ruth  knew  that 
the}'  were  friends. 

And  Dr.  Withers,  with  that  quick,  nervous,  penetrat 
ing  way  of  his  —  he  was  watching  Ruth  while  he 
talked  with  Oscar,  and  again  taking  the  measure  of  the 
young  man,  and  forming  his  judgment  of  the  girl.  Dr. 
Withers  at  five  and  fifty  was  a  good  deal  younger  than 
he  had  been  at  five  and  twenty.  Such  is  one  of 
the  pieces  of  good  fortune  of  immortal  beings  ;  and  so 


308  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

it  was,  that  with  all  that  rare  wealth  of  observation 
and  experience,  remembering  what  half  the  noblest  men 
of  his  time  had  said  to  him  personally,  and  remember 
ing,  as  well,  what  the  other  half  'had  written,  Dr. 
Withers  was,  all  the  same,  on  a  level  in  3*ears,  in  quick 
ness,  in  power  to  enjoy  with  Oscar ;  entered  into  his 
eagerness  and  anxiety,  and  learned  from  him,  while  he 
cautioned  and  advised  him.  And  so  was  it,  that  with 
him,  too,  Oscar  came  very  readily  to  be  at  ease  and  at 
home.  This  division  of  *  talk  lasted  for  half  an  hour. 
Then,  as  they  loitered  at  table,  the  doctor  interrupted 
Annie  bluntly,  and  said  to  Ruth  that  she  must  listen  to 
him,  made  her  laugh  heartily  at  a  droll  story  he  told 
them  all,  and  from  that  moment  all  four  were  at  ease 
with  each  other.  And  so,  in  a  little  while,  it  came  per 
fectly  easy  for  all  four  to  discuss  plans  and  prospects, 
to  propose  this,  to  suggest  that,  as  if  they  had  known 
each  other  for  years. 

Of  all  which  the  result  was,  that  Ruth  did  go  to 
Mrs.  Alden's  for  a  day  or  two,  as  Annie  Withers  had 
suggested  the  night  before,  till  she  could  honorabty  ad 
just  her  engagements  with  Schmidt  and  Pusgrabber,  — 
a  duty  which  a  visit  from  Dr.  Withers  decidedly  sim 
plified.  But,  within  a  very  few  days,  Mrs.  Men-lam,  a 
lad}*  who  kept  a  pretty  family  school  for  twelve  girls  in 
Brooklyn,  came  over  to  see  Ruth,  talked  with  her  —  oh, 
a  whole  afternoon  she  talked  with  her  —  about  teaching 
and  books  and  schools  in  log-cabins,  and  then  proposed 
to  Ruth  that  she  should  go  home  with  her  and  see  how 
she  would  like  to  be  pupil  and  teacher  together,  —  to 
teach  the  little  girls  and  learn  with  the  bigger  girls. 
Would  she  like  it  ?  Poor  Ruth  was  wholly  upset.  The 
big  tears  came  pouring  out  from  her  big  eyes.  It  was 
the  kingdom  of  heaven  for  her ;  }'es,  this  was  the  king 
dom  of  heaven  :ig:iin.  Faith  unswerving,  hope  un 
faltering,  :md  happy  love,  make  that  house  also  a  place 
where  the  kingdom  has  come. 

Nor  was  there  bar  nor  ban  there ;  but  Mr.  Esmark 
could  come  to  see  Miss  Cottam  when  he  would. 

Oscar  made  his  home  also  on  the  Brooklyn  side,  and 


MES.  MERRIAM'S.  309 

he  did  not  fail  to  use  his  privilege.  Summer  was  upon 
them.  All  the  pupils,  except  two  from  the  West-India 
Islands,  went  home.  Ruth  could  not  see  why  they  left 
a  pface  so  wonderful  in  its  changing  beaut}T  as  Brooktyn 
Heights.  For  herself,  she  was  at  rest  for  the  first  time 
for  maiw  long  weeks,  and  she  was  under  the  care  of  a 
lo}'al  Christian  woman.  Ah,  it  was  long  since  poor 
Ruth  had  known  what  it  was  to  have  a  mother  !  The 
West-Indians,  and  this  prairie-girl,  and  Mrs.  Merriam 
made  a  strange  compan3r,  —  none  the  less  charming 
because  it  was  strange.  In  this  company,  on  many  a 
summer  evening  as  they  sat  watching  the  sunset  bej'ond 
the  water,  and  on  man}-  a  Sunday  as  they  tried  the  various 
resources  of  a  great  cit}',  Oscar  was  made  welcome. 

Thirteen-fifteenths  of  his  waking  time  were  given  to 
Lowndes  &  Karrigan,  and  to  the  journeys  which  took 
him  to  their  shop  and  back  again.  He  did  not  dare  to 
acknowledge,  even  to  himself,  that  he  longed  to  spend 
the  remaining  two-fifteenths  at  Mrs.  Merriam's.  But 
she  was  good,  she  was  as  young  as  ever,  and  she  wel 
comed  him  always  when  he  came.  She  made  him  use 
ful  to  herself;  and  in  ten  thousand  ways  she  did  for 
Oscar  what  Jasper  never  could  have  done,  nor  any  other 
man.  And  Oscar,  —  passionate  as  ever  in  his  love  for 
Jasper,  eager  to  execute  any  commission  which  he  re 
ceived  from  New  Altona,  delighted,  when  he  had  that 
chance,  to  go  to  that  New  Sybaris,  and  paint  rightly 
Bertha's  new  home,  —  still  did  not  find  the  summer 
lonely  or  long.  There  were  four  weeks  when  Mrs. 
Merriam  took  all  the  girls  with  her  to  her  father's  home 
in  a  farm-house  on  the  coast  of  Maine ;  which  weeks 
Oscar  found  interminable.  For  the  rest,  the  months 
were  veiy  short,  and  he  was  very  happy. 

When  "  the  girls"  did  come  back  from  Maine,  at  last, 
Oscar  opened  his  heart  to  Mrs.  Merriam.  He  did  not 
call  them  u  the  girls ; "  but  there  is  a  tradition  that 
Josephine  Morland,  that  black-eyed,  dashing  chit  from 
Jamaica,  did  say,  "  we  four  girls,"  when  she  was  de 
scribing  their  sail  through  Merry  Meeting  Bay ;  and 
that  she  justified  the  count  by  declaring  that  Mrs. 


310  v.      UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

Merriam  was  the  youngest  of  the  four.  Oscar  opened 
his  heart  to  Mrs.  Merriam.  He  talked  to  her  as  one 
might  wish  all  boys  would  talk  to  their  mothers ;  and 
she  talked  to  him  as  it  might  be  wished  all  mothers 
would  talk  to  their  bo}'S.  He  told  her  how  he  had 
missed  her  through  the  four  weeks ;  and  he  told  her 
that  to  have  Ruth  away  was  wretchedness  itself.  He 
had  fared  very  well,  he  said,  before  the  day  when  Ruth 
came  into  the  shop,  though  he  thought  of  her  every 
day,  and  pra}~ed  for  her  every  night,  long  before  that 
time.  But  to  be  with  her  as  he  was  with  her  here,  and 
then  to  have  her  go  awa}T,  and  to  be  terrified  with 
thinking  that  some  one  man  of  the  thousands  whom 
she  might  see  in  travelling  (seeing,  of  course,  that  she 
was  the  loveliest  creature  in  the  world)  might  want  to 
take  her  for  his  own,  and  might  take  her  for  his 
own,  —  this  to  Oscar  seemed  most  terrible.  "  Now 
tell  me,  my  dear  Mrs.  Merriam,  what  I  ma}'  do : 
what  have  I  any  right  to  do?  I  am  nothing  but 
an  apprentice  in  a  carriage-shop.  I  am  well  for 
ward  ;  I  am  earning  now  twelve  dollars  ever}r  week ; 
and  in  the  bank  I  have  got  something.  Still  I  do  not 
lie  to  nvyself,  Mrs.  Merriam.  I  am  onl}'  an  apprentice  ; 
and  it  will  be  two  3'cars  before  my  contract  with  the 
firm  is  up,  and  before  I  am  free  of  the  world  ;  so,  if  I 
were  mad  enough  to  think  dear  Ruth  would  care  about 
me  one  speck  more  than  about  anybody  else  she  was 
kind  to,  do  3*011  think  I  have  an}'  right  to  tell  her  that 
I  love  her  with  all  my  heart  and  soul,  and  to  ask  her  to 
give  me  a  chance  to  show  her  that  I  do?  " 

To  show  her,  indeed  !  Dear  Mrs.  Merriam  had  h:id 
such  confidenees  before  now.  She  kept  her  countenance 
bravely.  1  > i it,  if  Oscar  had  not  been  showing  this  to 
Ruth  every  hour  since  the  day  Ruth  first  <-amc  to  this 
house,  then  nothing  was  ever  shown  by  man  to  woman. 
Dear  Mrs.  Merriam.  she  did  not  laugh.  She  spoke  to 
him  as  his  mother  might  have  done. 

"Deai1  boy,  do  not  mix  up  ten  dollars  a  week,  or  ten 
thousand  dollars  a  week,  with  what  is  priceless.  What 
you  offer  Ruth  is  the  priceless  love  of  a  man's  heart ; 


MES.  MEKEIA3TS.  \£>  ^  311 


and  money  has  nothing  to  do  with  that. 
to  say  whether  she  will  take  it,  and  will  give  y< 
turn  the  only  return  which  can  be  given.  For  the  rest, 
you  are  not  old  enough  to  marry  her ;  and  she  is  not 
old  enough  to  marry  }*ou.  If  she  is  not  willing  to  wait 
till  you  are  old  enough,  she  is  not  worthy  of  you.  If 
3'ou  are  not  willing  to  wait,  you  are  not  worthy  of  her. 
If  she  is  not  willing  to  marry  a  journeyman  carriage- 
builder  whom  she  loves,  she  is  not  worth  the  having ; 
and,  in  that  case,  you  would  be  lucky  if  she  said,  No. 
If  she  does  love  you.  enough  to  wait  till  }'ou  can  make 
a  home  for  her,  and  then  you  are  ever  mean  enough  to 
forget  that  confidence  of  hers, — why,  you  are  not  the 
Oscar  I  take  you  for." 

"  Then  I  am  to  tell  her"  — 

"  You  are  to  tell  her  the  truth,  —  the  only  thing  that 
is  ever  worth  the  telling." 

The  introduction  here  of  this  little  interlude  between 
Mrs.  Merriam  and  Oscar  must  be  pardoned  by  the 
reader.  I  know,  only  too  well,  that  the  histor}-  of  this 
summer,  whether  for  Oscar  or  for  Ruth,  for  Bertha  or 
for  Jasper,  cannot  here  be  written.  This  story  has  now 
been  told,  if  we  are  to  bind  ourselves  by  the  promise 
in  its  second  chapter  ;  for  Jasper  and  Bertha  henceforth 
are  to  rise  on  one  wave  when  their  fortune  takes  them 
up  ;  they  are  to  sink  in  one  gulf  when  the  ship  that 
bears  them  lurches  down.  The  courses  and  the  currents 
of  life  have  at  last  brought  them  together,  bound  them 
together  b}r  the  indissoluble  tie,  and  with  that  bond  this 
story  is  done. 

October  came  at  last.  Even  the  kettle  on  the  kitchen- 
fire,  though  it  be  filled  with  the  coldest  of  water,  and 
watched,  though  it  be,  by  a  surrounding  circle  of  ten 
children  eager  for  breakfast,  —  even  this  kettle,  of  all 
kettles,  at  last  consents  to  boil.  And,  in  like  manner 
for  Jasper,  this  summer,  longest  of  all  summers  which 
ever  ground  by  since  the  world  hung  on  its  axes,  or 
moved  in  its  orbit ;  a  summer  in  which  from  day  to  day 
he  flashed  or  thundered  or  beamed,  or  distilled  in  dew, 


312  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

upon  the  publics  of  New  Altona,  of  Belleville,  or  of 
Flirt-town,  —  even  this  summer,  longest  of  all  conceiv 
able  summers,  at  last  ground  by.  The  paint  was  chy 
and  hard  at  the  corner  of  I  Street  and  1 7th  Street ;  the 
little  store  of  earthenware  was  clean  on  the  shelves ; 
the  stove  was  shining  in  its  unused  glory ;  the  white 
window-shades,  spotless,  hung  upon  machineiy,  which, 
for  the  moment,  would  do  what  it  was  meant  to  do. 
Jasper  confided  to  Mrs.  Cordelier,  his  nearest  friend  in 
New  Altona,  that,  if  all  went  well,  they  should  arrive 
on  the  evening  of  the  14th  ;  and  she  pledged  herself  that 
the  kettle  should  be  on  the  stove,  and  the  German  girl 
in  attendance,  when  the  two  arrived.  And  Jasper  once 
more  left  the  "  New  Altona  Gazette  "  in  the  charge  of 
his  lieutenant  pro  tern.  Congress  had  adjourned  at  last, 
and  there  was  no  fear  of  vetoes.  And  Jasper  took  the 
affirmation  of  Dan  L'Estrange,  that  he  would  not  com 
mit  the  paper  to  free-trade,  or  Spiritualism,  or  any  other 
heresy  ;  that  it  should  not  say  "  commence"  for  "  be 
gin,"  nor  "in  our  midst"  for  "among  us,"  nor  "we 
nibbed  our  pen,"  nor  "  we  laughed  in  our  sleeve." 
And,  thus  guarded,  he  started  on  the  last  lonel}r  jour- 
nc}T  of  his  life.  Once  more  two  minutes  to  the  mile 
seemed  slow.  But  once  more  gib-keys  held  to  their 
places,  water  volatilized  at  a  temperature  of  212°  of 
Fahrenheit,  as  it  always  had  done  since  Tubal-Cain 
put  kettle  upon  fire.  Once  more  the  driving-wheels 
flew  round  as  the  expanding  steam  compelled  them  ;  and 
so  once  more,  in  face  of  Jasper's  impatience,  neither 
helped  by  it  nor  hindered,  he  arrived  at  the  American 
House  in  Boston,  at  five  in  the  afternoon,  and  was  at 
Mr.  Schwarz's  before  half-past  five. 

And  the  next  evening,  in  the  little  German  church 
which  Mrs.  Schwarz  loved  because  it  seemed  to  her  a 
little  like  Lauenburg,  Jasper  and  Bertha,  Oscar  and 
Iviith,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Schwarz,  Aunt  Mary  and  Uncle 
Kmifmann,  stood  in  the  little  chancel ;  and  Mr.  Fleisch- 
haucr  married  them  in  the  dear  old  service  of  the  denr 
old  church.  Jasper  put  a  ring  on  Bertha's  finger,  and 
she  put  a  ring  on  his.  Jasper  made  his  responses  in 


MBS.  MERRIAM'S.  313 

German ;  and  his  memory  ran  back  on  the  instant  to 
the  hot  afternoon  when  he  talked  such  bad  college  Ger 
man  to  her  in  the  train.  And  Bertha  felt  as  if  she  and 
Jasper  and  the  minister  were  the  only  three  people  in 
the  world. 


314  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 


OOE"OLUSIO]Sr. 


.  The  story  is  not  quite  done.  The  party  all 
went  back  to  the  little  half-house,  and  there  was  a 
merry  evening  there  ;  for  Jasper  and  Bertha  were  not 
to  take  up  their  line  of  march  until  morning.  Of  Jas 
per's  friends,  Haliburton  and  Oilman  were  the  only  two 
there.  Both  of  them  had  come  from  far  away  to  be 
bridesmen  at  the  wedding ;  and  both  of  them  were 
already  far  gone  in  a  loyal  enthusiasm  for  Bertha, 
whom  the}7  had  never  seen  till  that  cbiy,  which  binds 
them  and  her  together  to  this  hour.  Of  bridesmaids 
Ruth  Cottam  was  one,  pretty,  shy,  and  veiy  happy ; 
Bertha's  sister  was  one  ;  and  the  grown-up  cousin  who 
came  with  Aunt  Mary  was  one.  A  real  fatherland 
frolic  was  it  all.  Uncle  Kaufmann  led  the  revels,  made 
the  speeches,  sang  the  songs,  kept  every  one  on  the 
alert,  and  would  not  permit  even  Mrs.  Sch^arz  to  be 
sad  at  the  prospect  of  Bertha's  departure. 

Only  Oscar,  of  the  whole  party,  seemed  ill  at  ease, 
and  anything  but  himself. 

And  what  was  the  matter  with  Oscar?  He  had  been 
escort  for  Ruth  on  her  journey  to  Boston.  For  three 
days,  he  had  been  at  Mr.  Schwarz's  house  almost  every 
minute,  :md  hud  seemed  the  gayest  of  the  gay.  Ruth 
had  not  been  unkind  to  him.  If  any  two  people  in  the 
world  understood  each  other,  and  were  true  to  each 
other,  it  was  this  hoy  and  this  girl.  Oscar  had  been 
all  right  till  he  came  round  with  the  carriages  that  were 
to  take  them  to  the  church.  Then,  in  an  instant,  Ruth 
saw  that  something  was  amiss.  But  she  £ould  not 
ask,  and  she  hoped  no  one  else  would  notice  it.  Per 
haps  no  one  did  notice,  while  the  party  were  tilling  the 


CONCLUSION.  315 

carriages,  while  they  were  at  church,  and  as  the  merry 
company  was  crowding  the  little  rooms.  But  then 
Jasper  noticed,  and  Bortha  noticed,  that  Oscar  was  not 
at  ease.  He  showed  it  in  forty  wa}rs  ;  and  Bertha  and 
Jasper  and  Ruth  all  knew  him  too  well,  nay,  loved  him 
too  well,  not  to  be  conscious  that  something  had  hap 
pened. 

In  the  midst  of  a  round  of  laughter  which  Kaufmann 
Baum  had  started  by  one  of  his  droll  German  songs, 
Jasper  passed  into  the  little  passage-waj^,  and  beck 
oned  to  Oscar,  who,  unlike  himself,  was  standing  in  a 
corner,  speaking  to  no  one.  Oscar  caught  the  sign  in 
a  moment,  and  slid  out  of  the  room. 

''  Come  up  writh  me,  Oscar :  we  can  talk  up  stairs." 
And  the  young  men  ran  up  together  into  a  little  dress 
ing-room,  hardly  bigger  than  a  closet,  where  the  gen 
tlemen  had  left  their  hats  and  coats. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  Oscar  ?  " 

"  Read  this  letter.  No  !  —  not  read  it  now.  Let  me 
tell  you  first.  I  am  all  surprised." 

And,  when  he  was  surprised,  Oscar's  English  always 
showed  marks  of  his  discomposure.  When  he  was  quite 
at  ease  now,  it  was  only  marked  by  a  slight  accent. 
But  with  Jasper,  of  course,  he  could  talk  in  his  most 
familiar  cftatect. 

"  If  I  once  thought,  dear  master,  it  was  anything,  I 
should  have  written  to  }rou.  You  know  I  should  write 
if  I  thought.  But  I  not  thought.  I  write  mjT  letter  to 
the  man ;  and  I  forget  the  man,  I  forget  the  letter  !  " 

"  What  letter,  dear  boy  ?     What  man  ?  " 

u  Oh,  yes  !  Let  me  tell !  Last  week,  only  last  week, 
Monday,  you  know,  Miss  Ruth,  —  dear  Miss  Ruth  !  is 
she  not  just  lovely  this  evening?  —  \res,  dear  Miss  Ruth 
give  me  two  books,  you  know,  '  Martin  Chuzzlewit,' 
for  me  cany  back  to  Mercantile  Library  when  I  go 
up  town  next  day.  I  must  tell  you.  Yes,  well,  two 
books,  I  tell  you ;  and  she  saw  it  rained  when  she  came 
to  door  wjth  me,  —  dear  girl,  she  always  comes  to  the 
door  with  me,  —  and,  when  she  saw  it  rain,  she  ran 
back  into  dining-room,  and  brought  out  paper :  this 


3 1 6  UP 8  AND  D  0  WNS. 

paper  "  —  and  Jasper  produced  a  bit  of  an  "  Evening 
Post"  — "  was  part  of  it;  and  she  wrapped  up  the 
books  and  gave  all  to  me." 

"Yes,  3'es,"  said  Jasper,  not  quite  impatiently,  but 
wishing  he  were  with  the  revellers  down  stairs. 

"  Yes,  }*es,  I  know,"  said  the  boy.  u  I  quick  as  ever 
I  can,  dear  master :  I  must  tell  you  all.  I  bid  good- 
by ;  I  took  books ;  I  go  to  Mercantile  Library,  and 
leave  them  ;  and  then  of  course,  you  know,  I  keep  the 
paper,  because  dear  Miss  lluth  gave  him  to  me.  I 
would  not,  }~ou  know  I  would  not,  throw  away  what  she 
gave  to  me." 

"  No,"  said  Jasper,  "  I  suppose  not."  He  was  think 
ing  on  a  little  museum  he  had  at  home,  of  waifs  and 
strays  from  Bertha. 

"  No,  no  !  I  no  such  fool  as  that.  I  keep  the  paper 
here  ; "  and  he  pointed  to  his  breast-pocket.  "  I  go  to 
shop,  go  to  work  ;  come  twelve  o'clock,  I  eat  my  lunch, 

I  read  the  paper ;    come  one   o'clock,  I  fold  up   the 
paper,  and  on    other   page  —  see  here !     See  what   I 
read  !  " 

And  he  held  the  folded  paper  to  Jasper,  who  was 
interested  by  this  time,  and  who  read  with  some  little 
difficult}^  in  the  dimly-lighted  room  this  advertisement : 

NORWAY.  — Will  the  representatives  of  Michael  Esmuck,  late  of  Stav- 
niitfi-r,  Xorway,  communicate  with  Williams  &  Rothe,  attorneys  at  law, 
299£  Madison  Street,  Chicago. 

"  Yes,"  said  Jasper,  "  and  you  wrote?  " 

"  Yes,  I  wrote.  I  laughed  ;  but  I  wrote.  I  thought 
some  old  bill  my  father  owed  for  clothes,  for  rent,  for 
something :  I  glad  to  pay.  I  no  mean  to  have  my 
father's  ghost  owe  any  man." 

"What  did  you  say?" 

"  I  said  nry  father's  name  was  Michael  Esmark,  not 
K-miick  ;  that  lie  was  from  Stavanger  in  Norway  ;  and 

II  i:it  no  man  named  Esmuck  ever  lived  in  Stavanger,  or 
in  Norway.     Then  I  said,  if  he  owed  any  money,  I 
would  pay  it.     4  Send  your  bill,'  I  said." 


CONCLUSION.  317 

"  But  you  should  not  sa}r  that,"  said  Jasper.  "  You'll 
have  half  the  Jews  in  Illinois  after  you  with  bills." 

u  Time  enough  when  they  come,"  said  Oscar.  "  No 
come  now.  This  what  come, — come  to  Lowndes  & 
Karrigan  :  i  Mr.  Oscar  Esmark '  (I  teach  them  how  to 
spell) ,  '  care  of  Lowndes  &  Karrigan  ; '  and  Mr.  Kar 
rigan  has  forwarded  him  to  me."  And  the  eager  boy 
pushed  the  attornejV  letter  into  Jasper's  hand. 

It  was  a  well-written  lawyer's  letter,  as  anybody  who 
remembers  Williams  &  Rothe  will  understand.  It 
began  by  explaining  to  Mr.  Esmark  that  the  firm  knew 
his  name  very  well,  having  been  looking  for  him  for 
years,  or  for  some  one  who  bore  the  same  surname.  It' 
had  only  been  by  an  oversight  in  the  office  of  "  The 
Evening  Post,"  that  this  name  had  been  printed  Es- 
muck,  —  an  oversight  which,  as  he  would  find,  had 
already  been  corrected ;  and  a  copy  of  the  Esmark 
advertisement  was  here  wafered  on  the  letter. 

It  went  on  to  explain  what  reasons  the  firm  had  for 
seeking  for  Michael  Esmark.  It  appeared  from  the 
records  of  registry  of  Cook  County,  that  Michael  Es 
mark  had  been  at  one  time  the  purchaser  of  twenty 
acres,  being  one-eighth  of  a  quarter  section,  in  Cleaver- 
ville  in  that  county ;  and  these  records  did  not  show 
that  he  had  ever  sold  any  part  of  the  same.  He  ap 
peared  to  have  paid  one  tax  on  the  property ;  but,  after 
that  time,  no  trace  of  him  or  of  his  claim  to  it  had  been 
found.  It  was  probable  that  he  had  sold  it.  If  so, 
could  Mr.  Oscar  Esmark  inform  Messrs.  Williams  & 
Rothe  to  whom  he  had  sold  it  ?  If  he  had  not  sold  it, 
would  Mr.  Oscar  Esmark  state  what  his  intentions  were 
regarding  the  property?  For  non-payment  of  taxes, 
one  and  another  bit  of  it  had  been  sold  from  time  to 
time,  and  were  now  held  by  the  purchasers  under  those 
sales  ;  but,  as  Mr.  Oscar  Esmark  was  doubtless  aware, 
no  title  would  hold  under  such  purchases  against  the 
title  of  a  minor  who  had  not  been  properly  advised  of 
the  tax  or  other  lien  on  the  estate.  If  Mr.  Oscar  Es 
mark  desired  to  recover  these  parcels,  as  Messrs.  Wil 
liams  &  Rothe  supposed  he  would,  in  view  of  the  present 


318  UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

value  of  the  property,  they  would  be  happy  ^to  commu 
nicate  with  him  further.  In  any  event,  indeed,  they 
would  be  happy  to  communicate  with  him ;  for  the 
non-use  of  so  large  a  tract  immediately  adjoining  the 
city  of  Chicago  —  practically  a  part  of  it,  indeed,  as  it 
would  soon  be  really  on  the  change  of  the  city  lines  — 
was  a  serious  inconvenience  and  injuiy  to  propert}*- 
holders  in  the  southern  part  of  that  city,  many  of  whom 
were  represented  by  Messrs.  Williams  &  Rothe.  At 
the  instance  of  these  property-holders,  Messrs.  Williams 
&  Rothe  had  put  the  advertisements  in  the  papers ;  one 
of  which  had  fortunately  attracted  the-attention  of  Mr. 
Oscar  Esmark. 

This  was  the  subr'ance  of  the  letter. 

"  Do  you  remember?  "  said  Oscar. 

"  Of  course,  I  remember,"  said  Jasper.  "  They  are 
the  swamp-lands  I  *-;rote  about  to  those  men  at  Mich 
igan  City.  There  was  no  attorney  then  in  what  is  now 
Chicago.  And  you,  nry  boy,  own  twenty  acres  of 
land  in  Southern  Chicago.  Why,  there  is  many  a  prince 
in  Germany  who  is  not  so  fortunate.  These  lawyers 
are  good  fellows,  too." 

"  You  see,"  said  Oscar,  "  I  get  the  letter  just  now, — 
just  as  I  come  from  American  House  with  carriage.  I 
would  not  speak  then.  Dear  master,  it  is  yours,  —  it  is 
all  yours.  You  say,  1 1  a  prince.'  I  say,  '  dear  Miss 
Bertha  a  princess.' " 

"  Y"es,  my  dear  boy,  dear  Miss  Bertha  is  a  princess  ; 
but  she  is  not  a  princess  who  shall  \voar  borrowed  feath 
ers.  The  Princess  of  Cleaverville  is  a  prim-ess  who  has 
just  now  one  white  rosebud  in  her  hair,  —  the  same  who 
gave  to  my  Oscar  the  talisman  which  makes  him  a  rich 
man.  Oscar,  dear  boy,  to-night's  service  has  made  us 
nearer  than  ever.  Nothing  could  part  us  before  ;  noth 
ing  can  part  us  now.  But  from  this  night,  Oscar,  yon 
will  have  to  show  whether  a  man  of  fortune — a  man 
with  a  hundred  thousand  dollars  to  throw  away  —  can 
live  as  pure,  as  honest,  and  as  true  as  he  has  lived 
when  he  painted  carriages,  or  filed  on  axles.  I  trust 
you,  Oscar,  I  trust  you  ;  I  was  never  afraid  for  you 


CONCLUSION.  319 

when  you  were  in  adversity,  and  I  trust  you  quite  as 
bravely  now  you  are  to  be  tempted  by  prosperity.  But 
perhaps  your  hardest  times  are  yet  to  come." 

"  No,"  said  Oscar,  "  nothing  is  hard  to  me  now.  As 
I  left  the  church  to-night  with  dear  Ruth,  —  I  not  call 
her  Miss  Ruth  to  her  again,  —  I  asked  her  —  if  I  would 
be  brave  and  honest  and  true  for  two  years,  live  years, 
seven  years,  like  Jacob  —  if  she  would  let  me  call  her 
mine. 

"  And  she  said  to  me,  '  I  am  wholly  yours  now/  " 

"  And  have  you  not  told  her  that  you  have  come  into 
your  fortune  ?  " 

"  Dear  master,  the  fortune  is  all  yours." 


THE    END. 


Sep 

JlGlr3J3±Li 

FEB15_ 

juii4 

OCT  18  1915 
1911 


CT-3^1 
OCT121911 


^^rf« 


nrn  1  R  192' 


3 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CAUFORNIA  LIBRARY 


